Horizon Zero Dawn: The Forbidden West
by Pirate01
Summary: Aloy discovers new Tribes and finds herself caught in an impending war between a highly advanced military faction and a Bandit gang. Both reveal surprising details about life in the Forbidden West, and neither is quite what it seems. (Continues on from the story "Ruler of the World" but it is not necessary to read that story first. Contains spoilers for the game - play it first!)
1. Chapter 1: A Girl and Her Dog

There was no doubt about it: the Forbidden West was not as bad as all the stories. Aloy, the former outcast from the Nora Tribe, found herself rather enjoying the company of good friends, old and new. In her brief foray into the Forbidden West, she had encountered deadly and sunken cities; she had witnessed for herself the lake that seemed to go on forever; she had encountered new Machines and new animals, some friendly and some deadly. But she did not find the Forbidden West to be the incredible horror that the healer and self-appointed scribe, the Considerate Udain, had written about, many years ago. The residents of this land were not unlike those of her homeland, the Nora Tribe, as they faced the uncertainty of a future with no objective and the adversity brought about by myriads of demonic Machines and evil humans.

But the spirit of these people, the tribes that fought to preserve art for art's sake, who believed in the triumph of good over evil, who brought hope to a dark time: these were people she was proud to know, to call her friends. Yes, many of them knew of the legend of the Nora girl who saved the world (at least, that's the way they told the story, though Aloy considered it an exaggeration), of the girl with the flowing locks of red hair and blazing lance who showed no mercy to those who would show none themselves, who single-handedly (and that really was an exaggeration, she acknowledged) fought and defeated a menace that threatened to end all life on the planet. Some of these people were shocked to learn that this "girl" was approachable and inquisitive, intelligent and wise, a young woman whose leadership skills shone through in all she said and did.

While her visit with these people of the Forbidden West was rewarding and soothing, Aloy possessed a deep curiosity, about how the world of the Old Ones could have fallen so easily a millennium ago, about just what those Old Ones knew, the talents they displayed and the treasures they squandered and the world they left to rot and decay. And so it was, on her third day of relaxing and enjoying the company of the singers and minstrels and painters of this land, that the wanderlust struck once again, and Aloy decided it was time to explore more of the Forbidden West.

By the time Aloy bade her friends heartfelt goodbyes, it was already mid-afternoon. Her journey from the desert village in this shallow valley, southward toward the Radiated City in the Forbidden West, was getting off to a very late start. The setting sun threw long shadows about her, and she realized that she was most at home on the trail. Her quest for knowledge was almost surpassed by her quest for adventure. Now, as day turned to night in this unusually warm winter, she became more eager to reach her intended destination – the storehouse of ancient books that lay to the southwest.

Aloy was slender and trim, not particularly tall. Sometimes she was mistakenly judged to be an easy target for dishonest traders and lecherous soldiers. But she was far from easy prey, as she had the strength and courage instilled in her by her mentor, the man who raised her from birth, the man named Rost; and she had the intelligence and curiosity passed to her through the DNA of her "mother," the Old One called Dr. Elisabet Sobeck. Few knew her true life's story, and she was happy about that – there was enough speculation and whispering among those who knew of her deeds that she didn't need discussion added to the rumors about her origins.

The winter air had been quite warm through the day, but now that shadows were lengthening, there was a cool breeze that helped to make the late departure more comfortable.

 _This is so different from the Embrace!_ Aloy mused about her homeland in the mountains far to the northeast as she walked along a well-worn trail. _My tribe is probably digging out from a snowstorm, and here it's warmer in winter than summer in the Embrace._

Her chosen traveling outfit, a light garment made of synthetic, lightweight materials, almost shimmered in the dusk as the coils sewn into the Shield-Weaver armor pulsed with energy. It was not the most comfortable clothing in her wardrobe, but its ability to protect her from attacks had saved her life numerous times, and now, as she traveled through entirely unfamiliar territory, she felt it was especially valuable. Her red hair hung in braids from the sides and flowed down her back as she walked, and a leather wrap slung over one shoulder held her only weapons: a bow, a lance, and handheld launchers for hurling blast bombs and for setting explosive tripwires. Also in the wrap was an overcoat and a single change of clothes. Around her waist she wore a leather belt; from one side dangled a quiver for arrows, bombs, and trips; and from the other a small pouch filled with dried meats and grasses, a flask of fresh water, and herbal medicines. Hanging around her neck was a chain with a necklace made of bone and gold, dangling as she walked. The necklace was a special gift, made for her by an artisan in the land of the Lost Angels, a thing of great beauty and artistry that reminded her that fragile works of art can survive in even the worst of times.

There were those she met in her travels who snickered at the sparse supplies she carried, but Rost had taught her how to live off the land in any situation, so she had no need for anything more.

On this day, Aloy was really not certain where she would end up, but tribal leaders assured her that this was the trail to the Radiated City. She had no intention of actually entering the Radiated City – though she carried several of the detector cards that would warn her if she stayed among the radiation for too long – but she was curious about a strange group of people she had encountered there in her previous short trip. These people had managed to find a special type of armor, armor that made them resemble Machines as they walked around the Radiated City without contracting the Radiation Plague – or at least, they didn't _seem_ to be affected by the Plague. What did these people know about the Old Ones? The lands she had walked near the Radiated City were barren, with only short grasses and sparse bushes dotting the sandy soil. How did anyone in this hellish environment survive? What did they do for fresh water, for nourishing food? How did they manage to avoid the horrors of Radiation Sickness? There was much to learn!

She was confident that once she got near the Radiated City, she would be able to locate those Machine-like humans and learn from them – assuming, of course, that they were friendly. Her first encounter, only days ago, had begun miserably, as one of those armored people had smacked her in the head, knocking her unconscious for a time and inflicting vicious headaches that still lingered.

By now the shadows were gone, replaced by a starry night with little natural light. The moon had yet to rise. As she had already been tired before she started her journey, Aloy decided it would be best to settle in early and get a bit of sleep. The trail she was following had widened a bit as it started a very shallow downhill slope, and she could see in the distance that the trail sloped upward again. On the horizon, at the top of the slope, there was a small building with a dim light emanating from an open window. A wisp of smoke told her there was a fire of some sort burning in the building.

 _Hmmm… could be a cozy waystation,_ Aloy thought… _or a Bandit hideout._ If it's the former, she hoped she'd be welcome to share the relative safety and comfort of a closed structure; if the latter, she'd decide whether to steer clear – or to clear out the Bandits.

It took only minutes to reach the building. She recognized some of the rusting and decrepit structures sitting in front of it: she'd seen similar ruins in cities of the Old Ones, with what was once a cover of some sort towering over one entire side of the building, and pieces of what had apparently been transportation devices, rotting away under the cover. Knee-high grass grew near the rusting hulks, but otherwise the entire landscape was barren. There was an open doorway ahead, and the light from the fire just inside the building threw a glow over the ground approaching the property. She could hear a woman's voice, soft and soothing, coming from inside the structure. It sounded as if the woman were comforting a young baby. Aloy could hear no other sounds from the building.

 _I guess this could be a trap,_ she thought as she tapped her right index finger against her temple. A small triangular device hung there, attached as if it were a part of her, one side just touching her ear. When she brushed the device – a Focus, created by the Old Ones to help scan hidden areas and identify friend from foe – a faintly glowing purple grid appeared, and objects inside the building shown as ghostly outlines. She turned toward the origin of the voice, and a panel popped up in the virtual grid: **FRIENDLY HUMAN** , it read. She moved her head slowly to scan the remainder of the building, but no other human image appeared – among which was most definitely _not_ a human infant.

 _Is this woman talking to herself?_ Aloy pondered. She knew that such an action could be because the woman is lonely – or it could be a sign of some mental issue that might prove dangerous.

Then, as she continued to scan around the wiry outline of the sitting woman, the Focus identified another living object, something she had never seen: it appeared to be akin to a fox – of which there were plenty in her homeland – but larger, and it lay beside the woman seemingly in peace, something no fox would ever do. The panel sprang up again, but this time it said **DOG. FRIENDLY ANIMAL.**

 _What is that?_ Aloy wondered. _It kind of resembles hostile Machines I encountered in the Radiated City, but they were Hunters, not Dogs. And this thing is most definitely not a Machine._

The woman was clearly talking to the resting dog. _Well, I suppose it's worth meeting this person, if for no other reason than to find out about her dog!_ Sometimes courage and curiosity can collide and lead to trouble; in this case, Aloy was sufficiently curious as to have the courage to advance to the building's entrance. She deactivated her Focus as she walked towards the flickering light.

As she approached the open doorway, Aloy made no attempt to be quiet. She wasn't trying to sneak up on this woman, and besides, if it turned out this was a trap, she was sure she could handle it.

"Hello?" Aloy called out just steps from the doorway. "May I come in?"

The soft voice stopped, and in its place came a grumbling noise, like the noise that some of the more fierce Machines sometimes emitted. Since she was certain there was no machine inside the building, Aloy didn't feel especially threatened, but just in case, she reached behind her back and extracted her lance.

The grumbling sound was a low growl now. She stopped short of the building entrance and activated her Focus once again. The woman was on her knees, one hand grasping a small dagger and the other on the back of the dog beside her. The dog was making the growling sound: it was standing on all fours, its head slightly lowered as if ready to strike on command. The Focus now reported that the **DOG** had become a **HOSTILE ANIMAL.**

"I'm sorry if I surprised you," Aloy called into the building. "I don't mean any harm. Can I come in and talk?"

"Go away!" a shaky and broken voice sounded from the building. "If you come in I'll kill you, I promise!"

"Okay," Aloy said, trying to answer in her calmest tone. "Don't worry, I'm not here to harm you or your… dog. I'm just looking for a warm place for the night."

"Well that isn't here! Now _leave_!"

The woman definitely sounded frightened, but her dog seemed to be ready to stand its ground. Time to try another tactic.

"How about if I just sit out here?" Aloy asked. "Is that okay? Can we talk now?"

"I… I don't know," the voice spoke, low and softly. "I… I've never been alone…"

"But you're not alone, you have your dog to guard you. From the sound of it, that animal is a pretty good guardian."

"Sem is not so bad, once he gets to know you…" The voice went silent for a moment, then, in a less frightened tone, asked, "are you sure you're a friend? I mean, you don't sound dangerous… and are you alone?"

 _This is good!_ Aloy thought. _She's really afraid but she's calming down fast._ "Yes, I am alone. My name's Aloy; your dog's name is Sem, so what's yours?"

"Oh no!" the fear returned to the voice. "I can't talk to a stranger! There are too many Bandits and Machines, and… and _creatures_ out, and you might be one of them! A Bandit, I mean… you don't sound like a Machine."

"Well, thanks for that," Aloy replied. "I've never actually spent much time talking to a Bandit, but I don't think I sound like a Bandit or a Machine. Or a creature, for that matter. I'm just a Nora villager, passing through and looking for a place for the night."

"Nora? What's that?"

"It's my home tribe, far away to the east. Are you with a tribe around here?"

"Tribe? Not really, but I guess you could maybe call us that… I'm a Laborer Second Class from The Bunker, Sector 3."

"Okay," Aloy replied, puzzled by the description. "What's 'The Bunker,' what's 'Sector 3,' and do you have a name or not, Laborer Second Class?"

"You don't know The Bunker? How far away is your home tribe? Everyone around here knows The Bunker."

"Sorry. As I said, my tribe is far away and I'm just passing through.

"Are you sure I can't come in and share your campfire? I can look for some firewood if you need it."

"O-okay," the voice still sounded weak, "but you stay on the other side of the room."

"Thank you," Aloy replied as she stepped through the open doorway of the small building. The floor had long ago rotted, burned, or gotten stolen, as there was nothing but bare dirt. In the room was a young girl, dressed in an ill-fitting smock that was dirty and torn, a large fur-covered animal at her side. Even in the red glow of the small fire in front of her, the girl's skin looked especially pale. Her hair appeared to be sandy yellow and her eyes shone a light blue.

Aloy knew that this girl was considerably younger, and that she was frightened of being alone.

The girl was still on her knees, with the dagger still in her left hand but now lowered to her side. To her right stood the large foxlike animal with golden brown fur; it had been snarling, but now it lowered its short, pointed ears and peered at Aloy as she entered, shifted the weapons pouch that was slung over her shoulder, and sat on the cold dirt, feet from the young girl.

"Hi," Aloy smiled at the girl, "I'm Aloy of the Nora Tribe. What's your name?"

The girl seemed to slump a bit at the sound of Aloy's soft and soothing voice, but she continued to watch warily, all the time twisting and shifting the handle of the dagger in her left hand.

"As I already said," the girl replied, "I'm a Laborer in The Bunker, Laborer Cary, Second Class."

"I'm sorry, that still doesn't mean a lot to me."

"Sector 3 is the Laborer quarters, and that's my job… well, at least it was until today."

"Let me guess," Aloy replied. "You're upset and you're running away from home."

"Are you making fun of me? I had a reason to leave The Bunker!"

"Okay, okay, calm down, I'm sorry. It's just that you – well – you don't look you thought this out very well. I don't see any other clothes, or food, or weapons."

"I…" the girl's eyes glistened as they teared up, "I just left. I couldn't stay there anymore!"

"If you want, we can talk about it. I'm pretty good at listening.

"But first, are you hungry? I am."

Aloy opened the pouch tied to the leather belt around her waist and extracted a small wrapped package. The girl watched intently and the dog pulled toward Aloy, wagging its tail. Aloy lay the wrapped package on the ground, unfolded it, and revealed several dark chunks of dried pork along with a variety of leafy vegetables. She reached back into the pouch and pulled out a small water flask.

"There isn't much here, but if you're hungry I'll share it with you and your… friend." She looked at the dog as it watched her every move.

"Well…" the girl said as she continued to stare at the food that lay before Aloy. "Actually, I am a little hungry. And thirsty."

"Then come over here!" Aloy waved at her. "Grab a chunk of pork for you and one for your dog. If you wrap it in a leaf –" Aloy demonstrated "—it's a lot tastier and juicier. I didn't plan to travel long without finding food, so I packed only a little. You're welcome to the rest if you want it."

The girl dropped her dagger and crawled on her knees to join Aloy. The first bit of pork she picked up didn't make it to her mouth: the dog snapped out and yanked it from her hand. Aloy started to reach for her lance, lying in the dirt beside her: she didn't know what this animal might do next. But the girl just laughed.

"Sem, he's really hungry too. Somehow he sneaked out of The Bunker and found me here, and neither of us has had anything to eat or drink since the morning."

Aloy picked up the parchment food wrapping and held it out for the girl to take what remained on it. Then she formed the paper into a makeshift cup, poured water into the cup, and held it out for the dog. At the same time she handed the flask to the girl. In seconds, both were empty. _I guess I'd better find some more water before morning,_ Aloy thought as the girl handed the empty flask back to her.

As Aloy pulled a leather drawstring to close her empty food pouch, she noticed a very odd behavior by the girl: first she sniffed the chunk of dried pork that she held between thumb and two fingertips, then she lowered her hand to her side, and slipped the pork to the dog. _Must not be as hungry as she seems,_ Aloy thought, _or she's got something against pork_.

Food and water both gone, Aloy decided it was time to get to know this girl a little better.

A noise from outside the building interrupted her plan.


	2. Chapter 2: Bandits!

The girl Laborer Cary looked white as a sheet. She knelt, frozen with fear, as Aloy gathered her lance and headed for the door.

"Wait! Where are you going?" the girl said, much too loudly for Aloy's liking. "Who's out there? Can you see anything?"

Aloy stopped at the doorway, touched her Focus, and slowly turned to scan the area outside the building. Once, twice, a third time, she saw images sneaking in the darkness: **BANDIT. HOSTILE HUMAN.**

Aloy turned back toward the girl and motioned for her to be quiet. But to no avail. The girl was clearly shaken by the noises from the darkness. And now she stared at Aloy's Focus, a glowing green circle emanating from the device.

"Wh-what's _that_?" Cary asked as she slumped backward, away from Aloy, Sem at her side but ears alert – the dog had heard the rustling sounds from outside and he was starting to snarl.

"Listen," Aloy whispered as she once again waved her hand at Cary and her dog. "There are some Bandits out there, they probably saw the fire, and they're getting ready to come in here."

"B-Bandits? Wait – how do you know that? You're one of them, aren't you – you just came in here to catch me off guard, didn't you?"

"What? No! Now you've got to help me fight them off, or you've got to hide and keep quiet. Your choice. Just make it fast."

The girl grasped her dagger in her left hand and waved it menacingly at Aloy. It might have been comical – this young woman obviously had no idea how to wield a hand knife in combat, and her pose made her look especially vulnerable – except Aloy knew the Bandits could enter the building at any moment.

"Alright, you hide. Here –" Aloy unrolled her weapons pouch and held up a piece of fur-lined hide: a heavy and durable wrap, made by an artisan of the far northern Banuk Tribe "—you cover yourself and your dog with this. It'll buy me a little time if I don't take out all three Bandits before one of them gets in here."

"'Take out?' I don't understand," the girl said as she accepted the wrap and held it up to inspect it. " _Are_ you one of them?"

"I told you, no, I'm not. Now get in the corner and pull the wrap over you, and get your dog to keep quiet!"

"H-how are you going to take them out?"

"I don't know, I'm making this up as I go along. If I can't scare them away I'll just have to kill them. Now _hide_!"

The girl might have protested once more, but Aloy had already slipped out of the building and into the dark night. _Looks like #1 is just behind that pile of rubble_ , Aloy thought as she moved silently to the far side of the remains of a fallen structure. Her Focus was still active, giving her a clear view of the Bandit: a young man, maybe a boy, appearing a bit hesitant to take action. So Aloy made the first move.

Using a broken metal beam as a vault, Aloy lunged at the Bandit and slashed with her lance. It was meant to be a glancing blow, and it caught the Bandit on the shin, cutting a short gash in the surprised boy's left leg. The Bandit had been armed with a bow and a quiver full of arrows – which he dropped as he bolted from his hiding place, running over a grass-covered hill and away from the demon that attacked him. _One down, not much bloodshed_ , Aloy thought. She knew there was a risk the Bandit would return, possibly with reinforcements, but she suspected she'd put enough fear into him that he was unlikely to do so right away. Besides, he'd have a hard enough time dealing with his Bandit gang when they found out he'd run from the fight – and he'd lost his only weapon in the process.

Bandit #2 was to her right, moving his head left and right, up and down, as if to get a better view of the contents of the building. He was just steps from the open doorway. _This one is a threat_ , Aloy realized, as she deactivated her Focus to extinguish its glow – she knew where the Bandit hid, as he was hunkered down and peering into the building. He was so intent on watching for movement in the building that he failed to hear Aloy creeping up behind him. And in seconds, his days as a Bandit came to an end as the point of Aloy's lance thrust from between his shoulder blades and out his chest.

Her reactivated Focus revealed Bandit #3 hiding in a clump of brush that grew to the far side of the building. This one appeared to be female, well-armed with metal armor and a sword in one hand and a lance in the other. It would be difficult to sneak up on this one, as the dry brush around her was sure to crack underfoot. So Aloy took a more direct approach.

After once again deactivating her Focus, Aloy stood up, in clear view of the Bandit, and strolled casually toward the gaping back entrance to the building before her. She was certain the Bandit would take the bait, and as she reached the open doorway, she heard the soft _crunch_ of footsteps on dry grass behind her. Aloy spun just in time, swinging her lance like a bat and knocking the Bandit off her feet.

"I suggest," Aloy spoke to the woman who now lay covered in branches and brambles from the dead brush, "that you leave while you have the chance."

From inside the building behind her, Aloy heard a voice that made her cringe: "Are you talking to _me_? Why do you want me to leave?" It was Laborer Cary, obviously thinking Aloy's warning was directed at her.

Aloy turned her head to one side, keeping an eye on the Bandit. "No, not _you_! Keep quiet, okay?"

That moment's distraction was enough for the stunned Bandit to jump to her feet and rush Aloy. The Bandit's lance struck the unprepared Nora in the chest, knocking the air out of her lungs and forcing her backwards. But the Shield-Weaver armor Aloy wore took the force of the blow and prevented injury, causing her only a moment's pain and the shock that she'd let her guard down.

The Bandit looked surprised. Clearly, the woman had expected the attack to deal considerable damage, yet Aloy was unfazed. Aloy stepped forward, drove the point of her lance into the woman's bare midsection, and pulled. The woman collapsed onto her knees, dropping both her weapons and grasping at her belly as blood spread over her hands.

"Please, please don't kill me!" the Bandit pleaded. She looked up at Aloy with dark eyes, blue and green paint streaked across her face, now running down her cheeks as the paint mixed with tears. Aloy couldn't help but feel pity for this woman, but still, the woman had made a choice in life to be a Bandit, and that choice had led her here, waiting for Aloy to strike a fatal blow. "I… I don't want to do this! I was forced to… they took my husband and my son, and they said they'd kill them if I didn't join them. You must believe me!"

"Not much chance of that," Aloy replied. "But maybe you can convince me. Who are you, where are you from, and most importantly – who are 'they'?"

Aloy noticed a shadow from a movement behind her: it was Laborer Cary, emerging from the building, the fire inside throwing long shadows on the ground around her.

"You're not going to trust her, are you?" Laborer Cary asked. "Don't you see? She's a _Bandit_! She would've killed us if she had the chance. She still might!"

Without turning to look at Laborer Cary, Aloy addressed Cary's objection while watching the Bandit, judging the woman's reactions. "You're probably right, she is a Bandit after all. I've never known a Bandit who chose to reform. It's a lifestyle.

"Still," Aloy continued, "I think we should let her talk a little more before we do something drastic. Right?"

The Bandit, kneeling on the ground, blood still dripping between her hands as she held them against her midsection, suddenly looked up, a frightful expression across her face.

Aloy realized why: Laborer Cary was rushing at the Bandit, knife held high, as if she were going to stab the Bandit. Aloy managed to grab Cary from behind as she passed. Cary fell to the ground beside the Bandit. Now both the Bandit and Cary glared up at Aloy.

"Why did you do that?" Cary asked, anger showing on her face, in the indirect glow from the fire inside the building behind Aloy. "She deserves to die!"

"Really?" Aloy replied. "And _you_ are going to kill her? You don't even know how to hold a knife, much less use one in anger, do you?"

"I… uh… well, no." Cary dropped the knife beside her, not realizing that, as she did so, she left it on the ground next to the kneeling Bandit. "I'm a Laborer, not a Guard. Killing is a Guard's job. I've never even hit anyone, ever."

"It shows," Aloy replied with a smirk. "All you'd have done was make this woman mad at you, too."

As Aloy and Cary were talking, the Bandit glanced at the ground next to her and spied the knife. She looked back at Aloy, a long look that, Aloy realized, was meant to assure eye contact. Then the Bandit leaned to her right, slowly reached out, and with a bloodied hand picked up the knife by its blade. Cary emitted a high, piercing shriek as she realized the Bandit had her knife; the dog Sem came trotting out from the building and ran toward Cary, as the Bandit held the handle of the knife up toward Aloy.

With a labored voice, pain apparent in it, the Bandit said, "Here, take this. This girl is going to hurt herself with it."

Cary moved further away, crawling through the brush around her, but Aloy chuckled and leaned forward to take the knife from the Bandit.

"I think you're right," Aloy said. "I think I'll keep it, for her own protection."

"If… if you plan to kill me, please do it quickly," the Bandit said, slumping down, her head dropping to her chest.

"I have a better idea," Aloy responded as she tucked Cary's knife into her belt. "Why don't you come on in and we'll see to that wound."

Cary lay on the ground in utter disbelief as Aloy walked to the Bandit's side, helped her to her feet, and led her into the glowing light of the building. Cary was left to herself in the darkness, Sem whining softly beside her. Cary scanned the darkened hilltop around her, realized she was alone in the darkness, stood, and quickly walked back into the building, where Aloy was already preparing a salve and bandages for the savage Bandit's wound.

4


	3. Chapter 3: Confessions

The three women sat around the campfire in silence. The youngest, Laborer Cary, tried to appear disinterested. She leaned against a dark, dirty, cracked wall and softly petted her dog as it lay beside her, its head nestled in her lap. The Bandit sat near the fire, glancing nervously about, especially at the doorless entryways on either side of the small building; her breathing sounded labored, with a raspy slight cough at times. Aloy sat nearest the fire, taking advantage of its glow to repack her medicinal herbs and supplies and unwrap her bedcloth.

Aloy took this time to observe the two strangers.

The Bandit was older, perhaps ten years older, making her around 30. The woman's paint-smeared face look piteously sad, as if she had lost someone precious. Aloy suspected her first impression of this woman was correct – and almost always, Aloy's first impressions were correct: the woman was telling the truth. She was a prisoner of a Bandit tribe, intent on using her as a pawn as long as they held her husband and son captive – or at least as long as she _thought_ they did. There were no sympathetic Bandits in the mountainous region that Aloy called home, and she had no reason to think the Bandits in the West were any different. She knew that this woman's family could already be dead, and the Bandits weren't about to tell her because they still needed her.

Laborer Cary was quite young, maybe 12 or 13, and immature. She clearly was not accustomed to spending time alone – or worse, with two strangers. Aloy doubted the girl would survive the night by herself, faithful dog or not. The appearance of the three Bandits had been evidence that this girl was not adept in stealth or self-defense. She called herself a Laborer, and while it was not clear just what that meant, Aloy was fairly certain it didn't mean survivalist.

Surprisingly to Aloy, Cary was the first to break the silence.

"Do you," Cary said, looking up at Aloy while still stroking her dog's head, "do you have any more water? I'm really thirsty."

Aloy sat straight and looked the girl in the eyes. "No, I'm sorry, we drank the last of it. But I can't imagine why you're out here all alone and you didn't bring water with you. Were you planning to be out this late?"

Cary looked defensive at first, then her face softened once again. She was on the verge of crying. "Well, no… um, yes, yes, I guess I did. I decided to… to leave The Bunker. For good."

"I see," Aloy answered, as she wondered how hard she could push before this girl broke down in an emotional heap. "It would have been a good idea to pack some water, and a little food, too.

"But I'm sure there must be water somewhere near here," Aloy continued as she got to her feet, lance in hand.

The Bandit spoke and Aloy stopped to listen.

"I have water," the Bandit said, not looking directly at either of the other women. "Not much, but you can have some.

"Besides, we've been raiding this area for months now, and I can tell you, there is no water within half a day's walk. Even if you found some, there's a good chance it's Radiated." The Bandit knelt toward the campfire, reached behind her back and pulled a leather strap around. Tied onto the strap was a bag, apparently made of the skin or intestines of some animal, and capped on one end. The Bandit pulled the leather strap over her head and gently tossed the bag in Cary's direction.

As the bag hit the dirt-covered floor, Cary recoiled as if it were a snake. "It's okay, I promise," the Bandit said as she watched Cary's reaction. "No tricks. It's just plain treated, pure water. That's all I have, so take it easy, don't drink all of it."

Cary stared – glared, really – at the Bandit as she leaned to her left to reach for the leather strap. Sem raised his head and watched the proceedings with a sleepy, bored look. She pulled the bag to her, removed the cap, and sniffed at the contents. After a few seconds, she took a sip, then a gulp, as she decided that the contents really were just water.

"Whoa, hold it!" the Bandit waved her arms in front of her. "Save some for us! Put the cap back on and hand it over to… to this warrior."

"Aloy."

"Paintface Killer, of the Skulldriver Bandit nation," the Bandit replied.

"Nice to meet you… Paintface," Aloy replied. "I'm guessing that's not your real name?"

"No, of course not," the woman sighed and slumped down. "I was given that name when my family and I were captured, about two years ago, and the Bandits thought I looked funny with red streaks all across my face."

"Red streaks?" Aloy asked.

"Blood," the woman replied. "We lived in a village far south of here. We left the village, the four of us, to find a better place to live. We heard about a Bunker that sounded promising, and as we met other travelers we heard stories of a walled city further north.

"But we were attacked by some kind of hideous… creatures. Not human, not animals. I was slashed by their fingernails as I tried to rescue my daughter."

"You said there were four of you, but you've only mentioned your husband and son. Did something happen to your daughter?"

"Yes," now this woman began to tear up. Aloy realized she was in the company of two very emotionally distraught people. She had long ago learned to empathize with those who have suffered, so Aloy settled in to hear their stories. It could be a long night.

"Those creatures dragged my baby away from me, ripped her out of my arms," the Bandit continued, now talking through sniffles and moments of sobbing, "Those things started to attack her even as she cried for her mommy and daddy… They crawled, or did something to get away, in the darkness, and my baby went quiet, and I could hear them making growling noises, maybe at each other, I don't know… I still hear those noises, every night!"

"You've suffered a great loss. I'm very sorry," Aloy said softly. And sincerely.

"So the Bandits named you Paintface because of the cuts on your face?"

The woman sighed and seemed to calm a bit. "Yes. A hunting party of Skulldriver Bandits arrived as the creatures took my… took her away. And the Bandits laughed. They laughed at my husband, who was hurt even worse, and at my son, who was only four years old and crying for his sister, and at me.

"Then they took us to their Tribal center and healed us. They told me my husband was too badly injured to move, but they promised they'd take care of him… if my son and I joined them as Bandits.

"What could I do?" She looked almost imploringly at Aloy, again on the verge of a crying spell, as she continued, "I had to keep my husband alive! So I agreed, and here I am, two years later, still stealing and killing for the Skulldrivers, while my son is a trained thief, and I haven't seen my husband in more than a year."

Aloy pondered this woman's story for a bit, trying to think of the right things to say. Finally she spoke.

"What did you plan to do? How are you going to find your family?"

"I… I don't know," the Bandit Paintface replied. "I guess… I guess I haven't really figured that out."

"Is there no one in your Tribe that you trust? Couldn't you ask around and see if someone can tell you where your husband and son are?"

"No, not really. The Skulldrivers are a very loyal group, and it's a very large Tribe. I can't show weakness or they beat me. The older men… they attack me and do things… I just can't trust them!"

"Alright, I think I get the picture. I know that in my homeland, there's no such thing as a 'Noble Bandit,' and that sounds universal.

"So what do you do now? I let the boy who was with you get away, and that means there'll be more from your Tribe soon. You're pretty badly hurt, you'll be considered a failure if you return emptyhanded, and I don't plan to surrender to Bandits any time soon."

"Well, I… forgive me, I'm just thinking of this now… you're a very strong warrior, Aloy, and I think you'd make a great Bandit. I don't mean… not a _real_ Bandit, you know, but if we got you the right clothes and cut your hair and gave you some facepaint… you could fit right in with the Skulldrivers. _You_ could find my family, I'm sure of it!"

"You want me to pretend to be a Bandit, stroll right into a den of killers, and just start snooping around? Sorry, that sounds like a terrible plan."

"No, it would work, I'm sure of it! Look, we could do it this way: you go back with me, disguised as a rogue Bandit, and I tell the Tribe how you saved my life and that you want to join the Skulldrivers. Sure, they'll watch you for a few days, and they won't send you on any hunting parties at first. But once you show them what you can do with your lance, they'll have to start trusting you! Before your first hunting, you'll be more welcome than I ever was.

"To the Tribe, I am an outcast, and I always will be."

Those final words struck a chord with Aloy. She had grown up an outcast, raised by a man who was also outcast for the simple reason that he had once violated tribal laws – to hunt down a group of vicious killers and kidnappers. Aloy had been born an outcast, because she was not a native Nora villager, but instead an orphan of unknown heredity. She knew what it was to be unwelcome in your own homeland.

But she was still not thrilled with this Bandit's proposal.

Second Class Laborer Cary broke the silence. "You'd be welcome in The Bunker, Aloy." Cary glanced at the Bandit. "Especially if you let them know you hunt and kill Bandits."

"I don't 'hunt and kill Bandits'," Aloy replied rather brusquely, "unless they've done something to deserve it.

"But tell me, why should I visit The Bunker?"

"Oh, it's a marvelous place. We – they – have learned to survive in this terrible world, thanks to the miracles of the Elders who watch over them."

"What does that mean? Who are the Elders?" Aloy had yet to really trust this young girl, and her statement sounded like so much more falsehood. Still, she recalled a time not long ago when someone else referred to the Old Ones – those who lived almost a thousand years ago – as the Elders. Was that what the girl meant?

"No, the Elders are not alive," Cary explained, "but The Bunker was built by the Elders so that civilization could have a place to survive. Automatic devices provide air and food, and mostly water – but that device has started to break down so they have to go looking for water – and there is The Locker! I've never seen The Locker – it's not for Laborers like me, it's reserved for the General and her Officers – but I hear it's full of knowledge about the Elders!"

The last statement piqued Aloy's interest. This girl may be lying, or at least exaggerating, but if what she says about the knowledge of the Elders – and if the Elders are indeed the same as the Old Ones whose knowledge she seeks – is just a little bit true, it's worth learning more. She decided to probe to find out what this girl was about.

"You haven't told us much about yourself, Cary – is it okay to call you that, or do I need to say 'Laborer Second Class Cary' every time? – if that Bunker is so wonderful, why are you running away from home?"

"Because –" the girl began to tear up and her voice faded once again "—it's the General. I want to be with... with the man I love. He's a Guard, so General Maryon says I can't.

"And yes, just Cary is okay."

"'Be with?'" The Bandit Paintface joined in the conversation. "Did you break some taboo in your Tribe?"

"WE ARE NOT A TRIBE!" Cary turned toward Paintface: even in the fading fire behind her, it was obvious that Cary's face was red with anger as she shouted those words. "Tribes are uncivilized savages! We are a STATE! We are the most advanced people in the entire world!"

"Hmmm…" Paintface sounded bemused. "Sure sounds like a tribe to me. Heck, even my Tribe allows marriages between consenting partners, no taboos preventing it. Your advanced STATE sounds awfully backwards."

Cary began to cry loudly now. "You don't understand… Laborers live in Sector 3 and we can only marry other Laborers. Guards live in Sector 2 and they can only marry Guards. But Hestor and I met by mistake and we love each other and we want to be together, and when the General found out she assigned Hestor to patrol the Radiated City which means he's going to get the Sickness and die, and we can't even talk to each other! I don't want to live there anymore!"

"Okay," Aloy spoke calmingly, "I think I get the picture. You chose to run away but didn't think about what that meant, and here you are, not ready to be a runaway.

"I have a suggestion, Cary. Please hear me out. Okay?"

Cary seemed to nod agreement, but in the low light Aloy wasn't quite certain, so she waited for the girl to regain composure. Finally, Cary whispered a tentative "Okay."

"Alright, here's what I suggest: I talk to your General. Now I know, she's following some internal law that says you and your lover can't be together. But maybe if an outsider talks to the General, she – it is a 'she,' right? – she will listen.

"Especially – and this is hard to think about right now – if you go with me."

"NO!" Cary shouted tearfully. "I ran out, I abandoned my duties, I let my entire Sector down. They can have me whipped, or jailed, or even killed for what I did!"

"A child running away from home," Aloy saw a noticeable cringe from Cary when she said the word "child," "is not worthy of such harsh treatment. Again, maybe with me there, they won't get so mad. I swear I will do all I can to protect you.

"You're hungry and thirsty, you're in dangerous territory with Bandits roaming the area," she glanced at Paintface and smiled, hoping the Bandit caught the smile, "you won't last another day by yourself. You must have family that's missing you by now –"

"Sector 3 is my family. My father and mother are there, and my brothers and sisters, but we are all part of the Laborers. My parents are First Class, I'm Second Class, my younger brother is Third Class, so we hardly ever talk. I have been assigned a husband from the Second Class rank, that's the law, but I have to wait three more years before we can begin a family.

"And I don't love him. I love Hestor, but he's a Guard Second Class, Sector 2."

There was a period of silence, punctuated only by the faint crackling of the dying fire and panting of the dog Sem. Aloy had the chance to realize that she was exhausted – both physically and mentally – after a very long day and night, capped off by listening to confessions from a Bandit and a runaway.

Among her many attributes, Aloy was endowed with a very special gift: empathy. On many occasions in her young life, she had gone out of her way to help others, and she knew she was about to do it again.

She just wasn't sure how, yet. And there was no hope in trying to figure out why.


	4. Chapter 4: The Bunker

Early morning sun shone through the open doorway and onto Aloy's face. She stirred and slowly awoke, realizing she was quite cold. The fire had long since burned out, and Laborer Cary was curled up in Aloy's Banuk wrap, asleep by the ashes of the cold fire. In the corner, Paintface sat against the wall, arms and legs pulled up tight, shivering against the cool morning air. Aloy felt something pressing at her back; she carefully sat up to look behind her and was startled to see Sem the dog cuddled up against her. Sem's thick fur had certainly kept him warm, and probably had helped Aloy stay warm as well.

Paintface stood and stretched, then arose to stand beside Aloy. "Glad you're awake," Paintface whispered as she looked down at Aloy, "I have an idea. I will go back to my Tribe and show them my injury. I'm going to tell them that the wanderer my party found was killed, but that I was wounded and a rogue Bandit helped me. That's you. I'll get some clothes and paint, and some charcoal to color your hair, and return here after dark tonight. You be here and we'll make you look like a Bandit. Then you can join me with my Tribe."

"Wait," Aloy was awake but still a bit groggy as she asked, "then what?"

"Then," Paintface replied, "you'll be invited to become a member of the Tribe, and in a few days you'll be able to ask questions I can't ask. About my husband and my son."

"Not tonight," Aloy replied. "I want to see this Bunker that girl talks about. Maybe tomorrow night?"

Cary stirred in her warm bedding; Paintface glanced over, then back at Aloy. "Yes, I'll find some excuse to venture out tomorrow after dark. Just be here.

"I think I'll be going now. I don't want to hear any more of that child's sob story."

Had she not been so sleepy, Aloy would have been intrigued by this Bandit's statement. After all, she had given her own sob story as well! But the Bandit crept past Cary and out the door of the building. Aloy heard her stop to retrieve her lance and knife before she slipped away.

Cary sat up sleepily and peered about the open building. "Where's that Bandit? Did she sneak out? She's not coming back, is she?"

"Don't worry about her," Aloy replied as she stood and stretched. Sem sat upright and watched her. "Now, about your relations with your Bunker…"

"I did some thinking about that, and I think you're right," Cary said as she stood and gathered the Banuk wrap under an arm. "What you said last night. I miss my home. I don't miss their stupid rules, or the General's stupid face, but it would be nice to have a real meal and something warm to drink."

"Give me a second to get packed – let me have my wrap back, thank you! – and we can head for your Bunker. You do know how to get there from here, don't you?"

"Oh of course I do –" Cary paused and looked puzzled. "But why are you going with me?"

"First, you need protection. Your dog –" Aloy reached down to rub the dog's back gently "—will help, I'm sure, but I don't think you could handle a Bandit encounter.

"And second, your description of this Bunker makes it sound like the ones I explored around my homeland. Except in all those bunkers, everyone was dead."

"I know our Bunker is special," Cary replied, with just a touch of pride cracking through. "The Elders left us to survive underground until The Revealing, and now it's our job to save the world."

"Hmmm," Aloy mused, "if your Elders are the same as our Old Ones, they made the world this way to begin with, and they didn't do a lot to try to save it. Except a few very smart people."

"Old Ones? Yes, we talk of the Old Ones too, but they are not _our_ Elders – our Elders built this Bunker to protect us and provide for us, until we're ready to… well, I'm not sure what we're going to do, but the General and her staff have it all planned out, and the rest of us will go along with it."

"Doesn't sound to me like it's too inspiring: I'd want to know what's in store and how I can help. I'm on a sort of personal mission – to learn as much as I can about the ways of the Old Ones, so we can restore what was good and prevent what was bad from happening again."

"You need to talk to the General," Cary said rather abruptly, as if the General knew more than Aloy.

"That's what I want to do! Lead the way." Aloy had finished packing her weapons and personal belongings some time ago, so she moved toward the open doorway on the Eastern side of the building.

"Well…" Cary stayed behind, watching Aloy move to the doorway. "To be honest, it was dark when I left the Bunker. I'm not really sure which way to go."

 _Thought so_ , Aloy muttered to herself. She looked down at Sem, wagging his tail as if in anticipation of the trek ahead. "If your dog followed you here, I should be able to trace his tracks back. Maybe yours, too, but a dog's tracks will be easier to spot." Aloy tapped her right temple, and her Focus sprang to life. She looked about the bare floor of the small building, and her Focus showed tracks all over. As she walked through the doorway to the east, into the long shadows of the early morning, a single set of dog tracks, meandering about but leading in the direction of the building, shone clearly in her view to the right. She locked the Focus onto those tracks and deactivated the Focus once again. A faint purple glow, visible only to her, emanated from the barren soil in almost random places, skirting left and right and off into the distance, toward a series of small mounds and hills.

Aloy walked away from the building, Laborer Second Class Cary trailing behind, Sem the dog wandering off ahead. She paused to look back at Cary and noticed as Cary stepped gingerly on the hard soil, slow to follow Aloy's lead. It was then that Aloy realized the girl was barefoot.

"Didn't you have time to grab some shoes before you left?" Aloy asked.

"I don't own any. I am not cleared to leave The Bunker so I haven't been issued shoes. Only Laborers First Class get work boots, and only if they're cleared to do work outside." Aloy waited for Cary to reach her. Sem stopped his wandering and returned to join them, panting lightly, tail wagging.

"We can't have you limping all the way, now can we?" Aloy asked as she slung the Banuk wrap from over her shoulder. With the pointed tip of her lance, she cut two large pieces of leather from the side of the wrap – _I hate to do this!_ , she thought as she worked – _this is such a beautiful wrap!_ It was a gift from the Banuk tribe that she'd met and assisted in The Frozen Wild, and it was painful to cut into it.

In a matter of minutes, Aloy had poked holes in two edges of each piece of leather, strung strands of wire through the holes, and in pulling the wires tightly she had fashioned a crude set of booties. "Here, slip these over your feet and pull the wires together," she said as she handed the booties to Cary. Once in place, the booties provided ample protection to the girl's bare, swollen feet, and they were on their way once more.

They walked silently for several hours. Aloy's stomach continually reminded her that she had had neither food nor drink in hours; her mouth was parched and her dry lips felt sore. But she said nothing, and Cary kept up with her without a word, as Sem moved ahead and behind, to one side and then the other, as they followed his tracks from the night before, backwards, toward The Bunker. Aloy noticed that the land was almost completely barren, save small patches of brown grass and the occasional carcass of a destroyed Machine (usually a Watcher).

As the sun shone low over the hills to the West, the trio came upon a small settlement. Huts cobbled together from Machine parts and scrap materials stood among the last of several ruined structures lining the trail; tall grasses grew sparsely around most of the structures, through parched and sun-baked soil. An open building among the huts was illuminated from inside by torches mounted on the walls. Aloy and Cary approached the building and discovered it was a public place of some sort. As they entered the open front doorway, they saw several small wooden tables with chairs or benches for seating. Most were occupied by men; only a couple of women, and no children, could be seen. A bar lined the far wall, behind it a weather-worn older man in a head wrap stood leaning on the bar, watching them only half-interestedly as they entered. Behind the bar, on a high shelf, lay several wooden barrels on their sides, taps attached. Aloy could see a half-open door on the far end of the bar, leading into a separate room.

"Sit here," Aloy directed to Cary as they reached an empty table with a single bench, "I'll see if I can get us something to drink."

Cary sat and motioned at the doorway for Sem to join her. The dog stood outside the building, looking very unsure of things. Finally, Sem walked in, tail between his legs and head down. Everyone in the bar turned to watch the dog as it walked to Cary's waiting hand and sat next to her.

Aloy returned from the bar with two large mugs in one hand and a small bowl in the other. "Here we go," Aloy said as she sat on the bench beside Cary. She slid one mug to Cary and reached over to place the bowl by the dog. Sem immediately began slurping the contents as Cary looked first at the dog, then at Aloy, then gazed nervously about the room: everyone had stopped their conversations and they were all staring at this ill-fitting trio.

"Don't worry about them," Aloy whispered as she raised her mug and took a drink, "they probably don't get many visitors here, but the bartender tells me we're welcome to stay as long as we wish."

"I don't think I want to be here. I don't like how they're all looking at me!" Cary replied.

"May not be you," Aloy responded between drinks. "Maybe they're watching your companion there. Are dogs common in this area?"

"No, not really," Cary replied. "At least I don't think so. I've heard that there are packs of wild dogs and that they will hunt and eat people. But I have one of the few dogs allowed in The Bunker."

"If that's the case, how did you come to get this dog?" Aloy asked.

"Well… I won it." Aloy looked first at Cary, then at the dog, then back at Cary. "The dog just showed up at the main entrance one day, and it was friendly to the guards who found it, so the General held a lottery for it, and my name was drawn."

"From what you've told me, I'm surprised the General didn't just keep it for herself," Aloy said.

"She could have, of course, but she already has a dog that protects her. She thought her dog might not like Sem, so I can keep him as long as he stays away from the General and all the other dogs."

Aloy noticed that, while Sem had licked his bowl dry, Cary had not touched her mug.

"Drink up," Aloy said as she took another long drink, draining her mug. "It's only water. The bartender assures me it's not Radiated – they have a well where they pump fresh water – and there's plenty of it, though it costs a fortune in shards.

"If you're interested, this bar also carries a selection of other drinks, including ales and meads. Oh wait – you're too young to have those…"

"I'm not too young!" Cary said, loudly enough that the locals glanced her way once again. She grasped her mug, sniffed at the contents, raised the mug to her lips and took a sip. "Well, really, I don't know what those drinks are. We drink only water in The Bunker."

"Sorry," Aloy whispered only half-apologetically, "I didn't mean to insult you.

"If you want more water I can buy another mugful. Looks like Sem is ready for more, and I know I am. We'll want plenty to wash down the dinner I ordered."

"You got us dinner? What kind of dinner?"

"Local game – either rabbit or boar, the bartender wasn't sure which – in a stew, with some vegetables he bought off a merchant. Supposed to be fresh, but I don't think we have a lot of choice in this village."

"I… thank you… I don't know… I don't eat that kind of food. But thank you anyway."

"Okay," Aloy answered as she stood from the bench, retrieved Sem's water bowl and her own mug and started for the bar once more, "I'll see if your dog will eat yours. But that's all this place offers for food, so you're going to be awfully hungry."

Cary was silent as Aloy walked to the bar for a refill. She could feel the glances and stares from the other patrons in this strange place, and she felt very vulnerable. Two men arose from the table next to her, and she turned her head away, hoping they were not coming her way. But she glanced up and saw the men wave at the bartender, then turn away and exit the bar. She felt relief when Aloy returned and sat down again.

"Food's on its way," Aloy said as she placed the bowl of water on the floor next to Sem, who now lay quietly, looking contented. Sure enough, the bartender walked into the room behind the bar, emerged with two large bowls, walked around the bar and placed the bowls before them.

"Anything else?" the bartender asked in a nasally voice that seemed to fit his weather-worn appearance. "Some o' the others, the regulars, they're kinda watchin' you two, but don't let 'em bother ya. We get strangers through here maybe a couple times a month, merchants mostly, sometimes Bandits lookin' for a meal and a bed, but never in wintertime. Some o' the men are talkin' about if ya need a place to bed down for the night, and I told 'em I'd ask, but neither of ya looks like that kinda girl. Are ya?"

Cary stared blankly at the man, clearly not comprehending what he was asking. Aloy understood, though, and she answered for them.

"Sorry, no, we're not that kind of women. We're just passing through – "

Cary found her voice and interjected, "I'm from _The Bunker_ , and the Guards know I'm here! So you better warn these people – " Cary stopped as she realized the bar had again gone silent, everyone turning to look at her. She slumped back onto the bench and lowered her head.

"What my… friend… is trying to say is, we don't need a place to stay," Aloy calmly stated. "Thank you for inquiring, but we must get to The Bunker tonight. So we'll just finish our dinner and be on our way."

"Yeah, okay, sorry bout that," the bartender replied. "Seein' all that, ya might wanna finish and get out soon, before some o' the men get too soused and do somethin' foolish."

"I understand," Aloy answered. She picked up the spoon from her stew bowl and took a first bite as the bartender walked away, stopping to say something to a table of a half-dozen men who took turns looking her way. The stew had an acrid taste, and it was cold, but it was better than nothing. Her bowl was empty in minutes; Cary continued to sit quietly, glancing nervously about the room, ignoring the bowl before her. Aloy shrugged, took the bowl, removed the spoon, and placed the stew beside Sem. The dog stood up and almost inhaled the contents whole.

"It's dark out," Aloy noted as she looked to her left and out the open front door. "We'd better get moving again."

Once they were outside, Aloy noted that the air was particularly cool – though downright balmy compared to winter in her homeland – and very dry. She was concerned about Cary's stamina: the girl had not eaten any of Aloy's food stores when they first met, and now she refused to eat bar food. It took only a moment for Aloy to scan the area with her Focus and reacquire Sem's footprints leading toward The Bunker. They set off, quickly leaving the dim glow of the village torches behind them as they entered the darkness of a crescent-moon evening.

Even in the low evening light, Aloy could see that the hills in the distance, to the far left and far right, were all stripped of any signs of life, though there were scattered ruins of buildings and perhaps small towns dotting the ridges of the hills. They were walking a well-trodden trail through the sand and soil, soon working their way upwards to the crest of a small mountain.

They stopped when they reached the crest of the trail, in a natural saddle in the mountain. From here, Aloy could see for a great distance – and far away to the south, almost hidden in low clouds, she could make out the outlines of the ruins of great tall buildings. The Radiated City! It was then that she realized they were walking straight toward the most feared territory in The Forbidden West, filled with radiation that would impart Radiation Sickness and certain death if one lingered there.

Cary's gasp shook her out of her trance.

"Look, we're here! That's it, that's the entryway where I sneaked out last night!"

Aloy turned to follow Cary's outstretched arm. Just to their right was a small, cylindrical mound extending only a few feet above the surrounding hillside. It was clearly metal, but it was dull and worn and it looked like it might be a part of some huge long-since-destroyed Machine, not an entrance to a Bunker.

"Come on, I'll show you!" Cary shouted as she broke into a jog – the booties on her feet provided only partial relief from the pain and she was not able to run all out. She reached the metal mound before Aloy, and she looked puzzled when Aloy reached her.

"What's the matter?" Aloy asked. "Is this the right place or isn't it?" She saw that Sem's tracks indeed started at the edge of the mound, but there was no obvious door or hatch of any kind.

"Well yes!" Cary replied, now sounding not quite so certain. "I mean, I know what it looked like, and I don't think many people have used it, so I'm not sure how to open it."

"Seems awfully small to be the main entrance to a large bunker," Aloy commented.

"Oh, this is not the _main_ entrance. I don't know what it was for. Hestor – my love – showed it to me one time, when we sneaked off to be together. He told me this was going to be our way to freedom when we left The Bunker."

"So what happened to him? Why didn't he leave with you?"

"I _told_ you," Cary glared at Aloy, we are not _allowed_ to see each other! One of the Officers found out about us – at least, about _him_ – and assigned him to outside duty. That's why I ran away!"

"Okay, I understand now," Aloy replied. "Let's face the task at hand – how do we get in? Can't we use the main entrance?"

"I… I suppose we could… If we could find it. I've never been there."

"Just a moment," Aloy said as she activated the Focus once more. She slowly turned and scanned the area around them. If there were a bunker door nearby, she should be able to identify it, even if it were out of direct line of sight. But nothing showed up.

Then she looked at the metal mound before her, and the Focus responded with a message: **BUNKER EMERGENCY HATCH. INTEGRITY MAINTAINED. CODE NEWS 1 TO OPEN.**

She understood the first part, but what was that last bit about? It seemed unusable to Aloy. There was a cipher lock on the far side of the mound, tucked under a metal cover to protect it. She pried the cover open with her lance, and the metal plate sprang off its mounts as rusty hinges broke away. A keyboard on the cipher showed the letters of the alphabet in three rows, in order, with a fourth row of the numbers 0 through 9, each button shining dimly.

Aloy mused aloud. "Code news 1 to open? What does that mean?"

Cary responded excitedly, "It's NEWS! N-E-W-S! Those letters mark the four main Sectors of the Bunker, and the General Quarters are numbered Sector 1!"

"North-East-West-South. And the number 1. Got it." Aloy punched the five buttons in order and a distinct clicking sound arose from the middle of the mound. Slowly, the mound opened as sections of metal retreated back into recesses covered in dirt. A gaping hole large enough for several people was revealed, a narrow stairway leading downward from the far wall.

"That's it that's it that's it!" Cary shouted. "You did it! That's the hatch to The Bunker!"

Cary ran to the stairway, but Aloy grabbed her arm before she could start down.

"You realize," Aloy said solemnly, "that if anyone noticed you gone, you're a runaway and you're likely to be punished?"

Cary paused, thinking about Aloy's comment. "I guess I forgot that.

"Maybe _you_ should go first. You can talk to the General and make things better before I go in."

"Sure, I bet those people will greet me with open arms, a stranger walking into their private home through a hidden entryway."

"Oh. You're right. What should we do?"

A deep voice from below them provided an answer.

"You should climb down those stairs right now. Hands and arms where we can see them."

8


	5. Chapter 5: Military Life and Eviction

A single guard, armed only with a rusty-looking projectile launcher (as Aloy recently had learned, the launcher was called a "rifle"), was not much threat to a warrior from the Savage East. In this instance, however, Aloy chose to cooperate, hoping the guard would lead her to "the General," the leader of The Bunker.

The young girl Cary looked nervous and anxious as she walked alongside Aloy, her dog Sem trailing along several steps behind them, through a narrow hallway in the Bunker. The guard held Aloy's weapons in one hand and his own rifle in the other. Like Cary, the guard looked quite young, despite his deep voice. He was dressed in a light green uniform, similar to those worn by soldiers in the days of the Old Ones, as Aloy had seen in holo images. An odd small green cap sat atop his bald head; Aloy noted that the man's head did not look shaven, but rather there was no evidence of hair at all. No eyebrows, no eyelashes, none.

The hallway through which they walked was dark and damp, giving the appearance of a seldom-used access point. Aloy suspected this was the case given that Cary had mentioned a main entrance elsewhere in The Bunker. It followed a slow curved path to the right, until they reached a heavy hatch that the soldier opened with a mighty tug. He motioned for Aloy and Cary to enter the hatch, then waited on the other side for the dog to make its way through before pulling the hatch closed. A spin of a large wheel in the center of the hatch locked it closed.

Aloy looked about her. They were on the edge of a large open chamber, artificial light illuminating five passageways leading out of the chamber. The hatch behind them was almost hidden between two of the passageways. Each had a brightly lit sign overhead: to her left was SECTOR 1: GENERAL QUARTERS; next to it, SECTOR 2: GUARD QUARTERS; then SECTOR 3: LABOR; SECTOR 4: LIFE SUPPORT; and finally, just to her right, SECTOR 5: MEDICAL FACILITY. This final passageway was filled with barrels and stacks of metal and wood, effectively barring it from access.

On the floor, an image of a large compass was apparent even through what was obviously a heavily-trodden chamber. North – marked with a block letter "N" – faced directly toward Sector 2, "E" toward 3, etc. A five-sided star was etched neatly inside the letters; inside that were cryptic symbols that were unfamiliar to Aloy. She could just make out faded and worn wording in some of the circular symbols; at the apex, nearest the letter "N", the words DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE encircled the top half, and something about TATES OF AMERICA was at the bottom. A symbol of a bird could just be made out in the middle of the circle. To its left and slightly below was another round symbol with a bird and MENT … something… ARMY written in it. To the right, the symbol again had a bird resting on a ball, the words UNITE … something NAVY barely visible. Lower left was a symbol reading DEPARTMENT OF THE AIR FO… Lower right, UNITED STATES ROBOT COMMAND could be clearly made out.

Aloy noted that the entrance to Sector 1 was much narrower than any of the others, and it lay more or less Northwest by the compass. On the far side of the Sector 1 entrance was another hatch, similar to the one they had just exited, but larger and more brightly illuminated. A small sign glowed above the hatch: MAIN ENTRANCE.

"Stay here," the guard commanded as he turned left and approached the closed hatch leading into Sector 1. The guard knocked politely three times; the hatch opened slightly, and Aloy could just make out another guard, in similar drab green clothing, on the other side. After a short conversation, their guard returned to them and first addressed Aloy.

"The General wishes to speak with you immediately. Remember that she is the Commanding Officer of this installation, and you will speak only when spoken to. Begin and end every answer with 'Ma'am' and do not sit unless instructed to sit. Do you understand?"

"I don't think – " Aloy began.

"You do NOT think, you show the General respect! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes," Aloy sighed: easier to play along for now.

The guard turned to Cary. The girl was fidgeting, and Aloy noticed she was trying to cover up her makeshift leather boots with her torn fabric skirt, clearly self-conscious about wearing them. The soldier seemed to not notice as he spoke.

"You were AWOL. You will face disciplinary actions as deemed appropriate by the Lieutenant General for Labor. Return to your quarters and await the action."

Cary's demeanor changed immediately: she looked once again like the frail young girl that Aloy had met just the night before as her shoulders slumped, her head dropped, and she slowly turned to walk toward the doorway for Sector 3.

"And don't forget your damned dog!" the guard scowled; Sem was still standing near Aloy, and the guard swung a booted foot in an attempt to kick him, sending him scurrying off to follow Cary into Sector 3. The man muttered under his breath, "I'm going to eat that damned animal someday…"

Aloy was taken aback by the guard's comment, but she tried to hide it, as she said casually, "that's the first dog I've ever seen, but it seems to be a good companion for the girl…"

"DO NOT SPEAK!" the guard shouted. He grabbed Aloy's arm and shoved her toward the Sector 1 door, yanking and squeezing as he did. The man was clearly trying to show his authority by inflicting pain, but he did not realize that Aloy's Shield Weaver armor provided ample protection from his attempts.

When they reached the door, the guard knocked once more and as soon as the door opened he pushed Aloy into the room without saying a word.

"What about my belongings?" Aloy asked as the man turned and walked away. The guard she'd spotted behind the door closed it and spoke to her.

"You don't need 'em. And don't talk, or I'll cut out your tongue and cook it for dinner!" This soldier looked strikingly similar to the first: no sign of hair, an ill-fitting green uniform over a slightly pudgier frame, but no rifle, at least. Even his voice was dark and a bit gravelly, too.

The guard walked through the small room, past a desk and chair, to a simple wooden door on the far wall. He knocked, politely, three times, and a voice from behind the door replied, "bring her in."

From her investigation into the origins of the life-saving program known as Project Zero Dawn, Aloy had a preconceived image of a military general: the Old One known as General Herres had demonstrated a _presence_ , even if only through holographic images. Aloy expected General Maryon to be someone of similar stature and demeanor.

She was very wrong. This general who sat in a chair at the far side of a large round table wore a uniform reminiscent of that worn by General Herres, but there the similarity ended. General Maryon was very slight of build, almost hidden in the fabric of the chair; she resembled the two guards in some ways – almost no hair on her wrinkled and red head, no eyebrows, a jaw that jutted out so that her lower teeth were ahead of her uppers, thin and frail-looking.

Aloy caught herself staring at the general, so she forced herself to survey the room in which she stood: a rather large room, dimly lit only by glowing lights of various forms obviously left over from the days of the Old Ones; a dozen or so chairs spread about the table that took up most of the space in the room; a young man beside the general shared her bodily features, and three other men, noticeably older but all bearing familial resemblances of General Maryon, sat to either side.

The general stood from her chair, wobbly on her feet, grasping a walking stick in one hand. "Come in, Aloy of the Nora! It's good to see you again, under … um … less stressful conditions. Please, have a seat and join us in conversation."

Aloy nodded slightly at the men who watched her as she sat in the nearest empty chair. "Have we met before?" she asked.

"Yes, a few days ago, in the heart of the Radiated City. You must remember – of course, we were wearing Battle Armor at the time, and that makes us all look much larger. I was the one wearing armor with the name MASH printed on it, my son here – " she motioned to the young man seated beside her – "was FRITZ, the gentle bruiser who coldcocked you was my General of the Guard, nicknamed TARK. General Ormstead, don't you think this would be a good time to apologize to this poor girl? You nearly broke her skull!" [ _Author's Note: This encounter was described in the story THE RULER OF THE WORLD, but it is not necessary to read that story to enjoy the present adventure._ ]

"Bah," a grumbling sound came from one of the men sitting to the left of the general. Aloy looked to see which man, when one of them waved a hand and said, "she had it coming. She shouldn't be in our territory without permission! She was probably stealing technology from under our noses."

"I wasn't 'stealing' anything," Aloy replied as she swiveled her chair toward the man. He was looking away, as if she were not worth eye contact. His features were startlingly similar to those of General Maryon. "I was looking for knowledge. For everything I could learn about the Old Ones, to try to help rebuild our world…"

"You hear her, right, General Maryon?" the man looked over at the general, still standing next to her chair, one hand on the table to help steady her. "I told you, she is not only a thief, she blasphemes! Maybe those Skulldriver scum sent her to keep us from finding something important!"

"That's enough, General Ormstead," General Maryon said with a slight wave of her hand. "I am inclined to believe this Nora girl's innocence. After all, she helped defeat the Pharaoh Sirte and set an entire city free. I think she has earned our hospitality for the moment."

General Ormstead muttered something unintelligible under his breath and turned his gaze to the floor beside him.

"I will apologize for my generals, Aloy," General Maryon said as she hobbled around the table in Aloy's direction. "We are a peaceful military organization, with three goals: preserve human life; gather human knowledge; and worship the image of the Great Goddess Miriam."

 _Miriam?_ Aloy thought. _I've heard that name before… Miriam Technologies, the company Dr. Elisabet Sobeck had founded a millennium ago. Is this a coincidence?_

General Maryon managed to reach Aloy's side; Aloy could see that the general's legs were slight in build, possibly one leg contorted and unusable.

"Come with me, Aloy, I will give you a tour of our Bunker." The general moved toward the doorway at Aloy's back; every other person seated at the table arose almost in unison and started to join them. All of them, Aloy noted, had physical afflictions similar to those of the general, as none of them stood easily or walked effortlessly.

The general stopped and turned back toward the table. "No, you all go about your business. General Ormstead, I believe you have an execution to carry out –" she turned toward Aloy to explain, "the guard who left the backdoor to the Bunker unguarded and let our Laborer sneak out – the penalty for dereliction of duty is death, to be meted out by our own Commanding General of the Guard," then she turned once again toward another of the men and said, "and you, General Watson, as Commanding General of Labor, you've got your own execution to see to. Our staff must remember that going AWOL is punishable by death!"

Aloy was shocked. She turned to General Maryon and said, "do you mean Laborer Second Class Cary? Are you really going to put her to death because she fell in love with a guard? She's young and she's immature, but she doesn't deserve to die!"

"You heard that, General Ormstead? That girl tried to escape because of illegal fraternizing with one of your guards! Find out who it is and add him to the execution list."

"Yes, ma'am, with pleasure," the man identified as General Ormstead replied.

Aloy was getting angry quickly: she had little patience for arbitrary and unreasonable behavior, even if it was by a bunch of self-pronounced "generals," and she was going to let them know it.

"Why are you doing that? The girl is just a child, she hardly even knows what love is! And besides, shouldn't two people have the right to choose how they live their lives? Putting them to death seems wrong!"

General Ormstead spoke up. "You see, general? You should've let me kill this animal when we first saw her scrounging through the dirt! I can do it now, with pleasure …"

"You will do no such thing!" General Maryon replied. Then she turned once more to Aloy, and spoke in a softer voice, "my dear, please let me show you our home and the hardships we face. You will see why we must protect the integrity of our citizens and the military structure of our society. Three people will die, but that will permit three children to be born to take their places, and all will be as it should be.

"Now come, before we get into a battle here in my briefing room, let me show you around and I'll try to convince you that what we do is for the best."

It felt wrong to Aloy to leave the argument: a young girl, her lover, and a guard were all sentenced to death for what seemed like minor transgressions. She might be able to save them if they could talk rationally. But she took a deep breath, sighed, and followed the general out of the briefing room, hoping that she might have more luck in a one-on-one conversation.

They were in the central chamber once more. General Maryon raised her walking stick and waved it in the direction of the Labor and Guard Quarters. "It's quite late," the general explained, "as we sounded Taps hours ago, so all off-duty Laborers and Guards are in their beds until morning. We won't go in those sectors just now. In each of those sectors lives two hundred people. No more, no less. Once the executions are completed, high-ranking residents in each sector, one male and one female, will be selected and allowed to mate. If they produce a child, that child will bring the population back to 200. We cannot support more than 500 people, so that allows for 200 Laborers, 200 Guards, 60 in Life Support and 40 in General Quarters. That last count includes my staff and our personal attendants.

"Come with me, I _can_ show you Life Support. That's our wellspring, it's the holy grounds of our savior, the Goddess Miriam, and it's our source for all food, water, and fresh air in The Bunker."

They headed for the large hallway leading into Sector 4. Soon they reached a metal wall with a single sealed hatch. When General Maryon turned a large wheel on the hatch, Aloy could feel a rush of cool, pleasant air hit her face. They stepped through and the general closed the hatch behind them.

"Our historical records are sketchy – at least up until about one hundred years ago, when the General Staff started keeping written records – so all we know is that this bunker was known as Pentagon West. It was staffed with the finest military minds during the reign of the Old Ones, but then something happened that caused it to be redirected. It became a center for the preservation of human life, of military life, so that we can follow the principles of the Goddess Miriam."

"You mention this 'Goddess' Miriam. How do you know who she is? What proof do you have that she was a goddess?"

"Ah, yes, the naïve questioning of a non-believer! Just ahead, I will show you – the Goddess spoke to my ancestors and she speaks to me. You can hear her too."

They were walking – slowly, set by the labored pace of the general – through a hallway with intermittent windows on one side or the other. Most windows revealed nothing, as there were no lights shining from whatever lay within. Finally, that changed: a large window revealed a field of a green leafy plant, growing evenly but only ankle-high throughout the immense room. Moving through the field were a half-dozen spindly machines, no more than boxes suspended from four double-jointed legs, each machine appearing to Aloy to be wandering at random through the field. But she noticed that a machine would sometimes stop, a metallic arm would extend from the box, and a chunk of the green plant would be lifted into the box. Then the machine would continue on its way.

"This is our food source," the general explained. "It is highly nutritious, requires no soil and only light watering, and these machines have been nurturing it for untold generations. Of course, there used to be more of the machines; some simply stopped functioning, so these are the last of the working models. We have a crew that monitors the harvesters and collects the food. It is automatically cooked and compressed into biscuits that provide all the sustenance we need. We don't really know for sure, but we think the plants also generate the air we breathe.

"Down here," the general said as she led Aloy to a window on their left, "is the water processor. At one time there were four units running full-time, but now there are only two, so we have recently started searching for other sources of safe water outside the Bunker. If we lose another unit, we will have to reduce our population again, maybe by as many as 100. We don't want to do that, so we're looking into other means of gaining water and food. We are training for invasion; there is a Bandit camp not too far from here that seems to be thriving, so we will eliminate the Bandits and take over their supplies.

"And here," they reached the end of the hallway and entered what appeared to have been a laboratory at one time. Now it was in a state of decay, not unlike the many ruins Aloy had encountered. "Here is the shrine to our Goddess, our Savior, the Holy Miriam. I will permit you to see and hear her!"

The general reached a table and lifted a piece of equipment. Aloy recognized it immediately: a holoplayer, set to project whatever images were stored within. The general flicked a switch on the holoplayer and a fuzzy image appeared before them. It was a woman, in a white lab coat, and Aloy knew the image immediately: it was a hologram of Dr. Elisabet Sobeck, the mastermind of Project Zero Dawn. On her lab coat, in dark letters across the left pocket, was a single recognizable word: MIRIAM. Aloy thought she could make out a much smaller word TECHNOLOGIES below it, but she wasn't sure.

Dr. Sobeck was speaking to someone who didn't get captured in the hologram. And she wasn't happy.

"…know this is just not right, General Maryon! That hydroponics pod was headed for Brazil, to farmers in São Paulo who are dying because their soil is too polluted, and you have no right to intercept it for your own purposes! That Bunker was never intended to be a cradle for Zero Dawn, and you know it won't stay sealed against the Faro Plague. If I get the chance, I'm going to catch a flight out there and …"

The image crackled and faded away.

"You see?" the general spoke quickly and almost proudly. "You see what the Goddess did for us? She wants us to flourish, to share our way of life with others, and some day she will 'catch a flight' to see us again!"

Aloy was almost too stunned for words. Where to begin? This woman was not going to listen to reason and logic. She would not understand that the "Miriam" on Dr. Sobeck's lab coat was the name of a corporation that invented new technologies for the common good – at least, Aloy was pretty certain that was the case, though she wasn't even really sure what a "corporation" was. So she chose to try a different approach.

"Dr. Sobeck – I mean, the woman in the MIRIAM coat," Aloy began, "said something about a General Maryon. How is that possible? This ... event ... took place almost a thousand years ago."

"But the holy image first appeared just a few generations ago. When they viewed it, my ancestors decided that General Maryon must be the name of the leader of this Bunker, so the leader at the time adopted that name. Now, every leader uses that name. I am a blood relative of every General Maryon who came before me. My mother had that name, as did her father before her.

"Our laws require that only one born to the General Quarters may serve as the Commanding General. The first-born always assumes command when the current General dies or no longer can serve. My brother would have become General had I not survived childhood; he was born of the same mother but a different father, and he is younger than me, so he took the name General Ormstead and serves as General of the Guard.

"My son was at the table when you met us earlier this evening. If he survives until I pass, he will become General Maryon. We have had … issues … with survival rates of our children. I have had four children, one stillborn, one unable to take care of himself and one died of an illness when he was less than a year old. So far, my fourth seems to be healthy enough to take my place."

"Didn't you say that there are only 40 people living in General Quarters?" Aloy asked, puzzled. "And from that small group you give birth to all the leaders of this Bunker? It seems to me that you may be limiting your population artificially. I'm not an expert on such things, but I'd think that you've got an awfully small pool of men to choose from. And they may all be related to you!"

"Well, of course they are! We are all related in some way, we of the General Quarters! That is how we assure that we pass on our leadership abilities to our offspring!"

"But I wonder," Aloy speculated, "if that might have some effect on the low survival rate you mention, and the … physical characteristics you seem to all share."

"If you are talking about my legs, yes, we all have that problem, but we also venture into the Radiated City and we lead exploration teams, so we are all exposed to the radiation plague more than anyone else in The Bunker."

"That might explain the … um … _thinning_ hair, yes," Aloy replied. She knew she had to tread lightly here: this woman might take anything she said as a personal insult. But Aloy clearly recalled an ancient text she had read only days ago: a historical document describing people of a land called Ancient Egypt, and a chapter describing its rulers, most of them known as pharaohs. Those people had also believed that they must mate only with blood relatives, resulting in something called "inbreeding" – and this appeared to be an eerily similar phenomenon. But how could she explain it without attacking the core beliefs of this tribe?

 _Time for another change of topic, quick_ , Aloy thought.

"You said you go on exploration teams. Is that what you were doing when we first met, in the Radiated City?"

"Yes, precisely!" General Maryon seemed as relieved as Aloy that the topic of conversation had changed. "General officers will use our Battle Armor to venture near and into the Radiated City, looking for more evidence of the Goddess Miriam's teachings. Over the generations, we have been hugely successful, and bitterly disappointed."

"How so? Have you found more of her teachings?"

"We think so, a treasure trove of them. Look, I'll show you." The general pointed to a closed cabinet standing on the back wall of the room. She hobbled to the cabinet, opened a door and stood back so Aloy could see.

Holoplayers. Books. Other pieces of what appeared to be written and recorded material. Hundreds, no, thousands of them! All stacked neatly, and all gathering dust.

"Have you watched the holos? I mean, the images? Or read the books?" Aloy was thrilled at the implication: this could be more information about the Old Ones, in one place, than she'd found in her life!

"No, we have not!" The general's demeanor changed; she looked angry and slammed the cabinet door closed. "These holy writings belong to the Goddess, not to us. We are merely the keepers, until she catches a flight and joins us. We will offer them to her as a sign of our devotion when she arrives."

"I'm sorry," Aloy said, although she wasn't really sure what she was sorry for, "I just meant, maybe if you watched the images you'd learn more about your Goddess or the other Old Ones. And the books, they must hold knowledge that could help you improve your home and your lives?"

"We have tried to watch images from the boxes," General Maryon explained, "but the Goddess clearly does not intend for us to see any but the one I showed you. When she arrives, she will reveal all to us. And the books ... the books just have many words, and most of them make no sense to us, but we know the Goddess Miriam will explain their meaning."

Aloy knew that she had to find a way to gain access to that cabinet. If the holoplayers were not too badly damaged, her Focus would be able to extract the contents. And even those that might seem to be destroyed may be recoverable by the processing contained with the Focus. And the books! She was excited to think that writings of the Old Ones were just a few feet away from her.

"It's late," the general, who now sounded very tired, said as she headed for the door out of the chambers and back into the hall of the Life Support sector. "You may stay until morning – and I think that may be only minutes away – then you must be on your way. We can provide you with a bit of food and water since we will have extra for a time, once the executions are carried out."

This hit Aloy like a splash of cold water: she had forgotten all about the fate that awaited Laborer Second Class Cary, her Guard lover, and another Guard.

"General," Aloy said as they walked slowly back through Life Support, past the hydroponics farms where pods continued to scurry about collecting the growing plants, "I want to ask a favor of you. Can you please, as a favor to me, reconsider the executions of the three people? Cary, especially…" General Maryon paused and looked at Aloy, a puzzled expression on her face.

Aloy continued, "that's the girl from the Labor Sector. I spent several hours with her and she is not a bad person at all. She's a bit confused, but I think death is a little harsh. Can you reconsider?"

The general resumed her hobbled pace. "Let me speak with my other Generals about it, if it means that much to you. We have laws, and desertion is a major crime, but if what you say is true, perhaps some public show of punishment will do the job. I'll look into it."

What Aloy wanted to say in reply was: _I thought you were the leader. If you can't change the girl's sentence, what kind of a leader are you?_ But she chose to not say anything as they approached the hatchway out of the Sector.

"Come with me to the General's Quarters," General Maryon motioned as they reached the great center chamber. Aloy looked back at the overhead sign for Sector 5, Medical Facility.

"What about that sector?" she asked. "You didn't say anything about Sector 5. Who lives there?"

"No one. It's sealed off. I was but a child – over forty years ago – when we had The Upheaval. The earth shook violently for what seemed an eternity – I don't recall it, but it is a part of our lore – and objects fell about everywhere. The roof of Sector 5 collapsed, bringing many tons of metal, soil, and rocks crashing down into the entire sector. The main hatch automatically sealed shut to protect the rest of the Bunker from risk of radiation exposure. You see, it was during the rainy season, when massive Rad storms sweep through and deposit deadly doses of the radiation plague on the open ground.

"It is said that screams could be heard through the closed hatch. But the wise elders of the Bunker chose to keep the hatch sealed, to sacrifice the residents of Sector 5 that the other sectors would prevail. We lost good healers and medicines but the rest of the Bunker was spared."

"And all the people who were alive but trapped? What happened to them?"

"Oh yes, we lost good people, too. We don't really know – Sector 5 is off limits, serving the wishes of the Goddess Miriam – but we suspect that any who survived the Upheaval were affected by the Rad plague and became less than human, hiding in shadows in the Radiated City, too much like animals to know how to survive."

"And your people did _nothing_?" Aloy was aghast. "What about your Battle Armor? Couldn't someone find the survivors and bring them back to safety?"

"Our people did what was best. They protected the rest of the Bunker.

"As for the Battler Armor, at one time this Bunker had over a hundred of them, but over the years parts have failed, they have leaked or stopped functioning, and we are down to only four. Those four are reserved for the General Staff.

"Now come along, I will show you to a bed for a bit of rest. Then you will be given a supply of food and water and you will be escorted out."

* * *

The room Aloy was given was comfortable enough, though a bit small. A single bed sat along one wall, a simple metal chair propped against another, and a dim blue light shone over the room from high on a third wall.

Sleep was impossible. There was too much to process. Besides, though there was no way to know how soon dawn would arrive, Aloy knew it would be very soon, and she would be evicted from The Bunker. She tried to sit in the chair, but the metal was cold and uncomfortable. Instead, she moved the chair to the closed door and leaned it against the door: she didn't want any unwelcome visitors, and she couldn't judge just how safe she might be.

The bed made a comfortable place to lie down and think about the past few hours. With a pillow at her back, she rested against the wall and tried to relax, but no hope. Too much to think about.

 _General Maryon mentioned a Bandit camp_ , Aloy thought. _Could that be the Skulldriver Camp? Am I going to infiltrate that camp just before it's invaded?... All those holos and books! How can I possibly get access to them? These people clearly don't have a single Focus, or if they do they don't know – or want to know – how to use it. So why don't they at least read the books and learn everything they can about the Old Ones?... Do I tell the general that I can view the holos? Do I show her what my Focus can do? Do I dare tell her that her "Goddess" and I are related? That Dr. Sobeck and I are related?_

That last idea made her laugh aloud. _Maybe I should trim my hair to match Dr. Sobeck's, find a lab coat, apply a bit of makeup to look twenty years older, then come back to The Bunker. That would cause a riot!_ She thought about it a bit more. _But maybe these people would accuse me of being an imposter and stone me to death. I guess I'd better rule out that entire idea…_

Her musings were interrupted suddenly, as someone attempted to push the door open. The chair held fast, though, so a male voice shouted from the other side: "Hey, open this door! It's time for you to get your ass out of our Bunker.""

Aloy arose and moved the chair from its perch, allowing the guard to open the door. She could see three or four more guards behind him, all attempting to peer over his shoulder at the "visitor." They were all dressed in garb of multiple shades of green, heads adorned with helmets, at least two of them brandishing rifles. As far as she could see, all of them were devoid of hair, all looking rather gaunt with deepset eyes. There was a look of death about them, an air of resignation to a life without pleasure, a future without meaning.

"Let's move," the guard said, motioning for Aloy to leave the room. She stepped out and was immediately surrounded by four guards, all standing close (a bit too close for her comfort), as the lead guard walked toward the hatch leading out of General Quarters. It would have been an amusing scene, if Aloy didn't feel threatened: the soldiers were only a step away from her all the way, a mass of green arms and legs moving as one, out of General Quarters and down the hallway marked Main Entrance. This hallway was of good size, large enough to permit movement of equipment and personnel together. It was well-lit by glowing lights and signs; a large doorway stood closed just ahead. The group stopped as they reached the doorway, and Aloy noted that the trailing guard was no longer with them. That left four guards in total, two carrying rifles. But the other guards did not step away.

"Well, I guess I'll be going," Aloy said a bit nervously: she was starting to get the impression that this was not going to go well. "I don't suppose I get my gear back, do I?"

The lead guard spoke. "Of course not. General Maryon ordered it, but our commanding officer, General Ormstead, overruled it. You don't get any food or water, either – we've already enjoyed your share."

The guard to her right lifted an arm toward her as he spoke. "You know, we don't get to see such pretty hair around here. I think I'd like to have hair like yours. Or maybe just yours."

"Yeah," the guard standing behind her said as he grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her. "And we don't get such pretty girls either! I think we ought to get more than just your hair!"

The guard tightened his grip as the lead guard faced Aloy and put his arm around her neck. "Let's just call this a favor you owe all of us for not killing you right now." His face was almost touching hers, presumably to kiss her.

Aloy swung her head forward, driving her forehead into the man's nose. She knew from the force of the impact that she'd need to wash the man's blood from her hair. At the same time, she lifted her right leg and thrust it behind her, her boot landing in the groin of the guard holding her arms. The man released his grip and crumpled to the floor in agony. With her arms free, she grabbed the two guards to either side and flung them into one another with such force that both dropped to the floor in pain.

With the four guards reeling for the moment, Aloy rushed to the exit doorway and turned a large, glowing round handle in the center of thedoor. There was a _whoosh_ of air as the door swung inward; she leapt through the gaping doorway and ran for the cover of a patch of tall grass to the left of the exit. The guards came staggering out, one by one, all four of them in pain, two of them pointing their rifles in different directions, but none saw her. It was early morning, bright sun shining directly at their faces, and the guards squinted and shielded their eyes as they tried to survey the area for any signs of Aloy's location.

Aloy took advantage of the moment to take stock of her surroundings. The main entrance was built into a hill, with flat ground all about. As with much of the area, there were no trees or obvious hiding spots, just patches of tall grass, and a scattered hulk of a transportation device here and there, rusting and rotting. It would not take long for the guards to figure out where she was hiding. She had to plan an offensive, unarmed, against four angry guards, at least two of them armed with rifles.

Then the lead guard spoke loudly. "All right, let's go," he said as he turned toward the open doorway.

"But she's gotta be here somewhere!" another guard said.

"Yeah, but our job was to escort her out, so we did. She's not getting back in anyway, so we did our job."

As the last guard disappeared through the door, Aloy heard him ask, "how are we gonna explain these bruises?"

A faint voice responded, "We tell the general the crazy bitch attacked us. We'll tell 'im we had to kill her and we left her body for the animals. She's as good as dead anyway."

Aloy took a deep breath and relaxed just a bit as the door slowly swung closed. _There's a trail downhill, but that may be guarded. If I go to the top of that hill to the right, I'll be out of direct line of sight…_

The door to the Bunker opened once again. Aloy dropped to her knees and peered through thin blades of grass. Were the guards returning to look for her?

It appeared that she was right, as a guard stepped out of the darkness of the Bunker and into the bright morning sunlight. But the door closed immediately, leaving only the single guard outside the Bunker. This guard looked like all the others, with one exception: under the guard's arm was a bundle of weapons and pouches – Aloy's gear.

The guard spoke, rather quietly, so that Aloy had difficulty hearing the words. "Hey, are you still here? I mean you no harm. I've got your stuff if you want it."

Aloy didn't move at first; this guard's voice was softer and a bit higher in pitch than she'd heard from those who'd assaulted her. And since there was no outward sign of injury, Aloy assumed this was the guard that had stayed behind when the others attacked.

The guard dropped Aloy's possessions to the ground. "If you can hear me, I'm just going to leave your things right here. I included a bit of food and a sip of water – that's all I could spare. Please be safe!"

Aloy considered her options: stay put and see if the guard reentered the Bunker; rush the guard (who seemed to be unarmed) and retrieve her possessions; answer the guard while attempting to hide the origin of her voice; or simply stand up and talk one-on-one.

Aloy chose the last option. Not because she was overly trusting, but because there was something about this guard that was less threatening. But she was alert, ready to bolt – or fight – if there were the slightest sound from the Bunker door.

The guard looked apprehensive, as if Aloy might pounce at any time as she approached cautiously. "I thought you should have these things. The general said to return them. I knew the other guards weren't going to do tht, so I hid these things and waited until those bastards left."

Aloy now stood only feet from the guard: same hairless face and head, same deepset eyes as the others. But something else. Aloy realized that this not like the others – this was a woman.

The guard took a step back as Aloy continued to come near. "Thank you," Aloy said, "for all of this.

"You were one of that group escorting me out, weren't you? I saw you fall behind the rest when we got near the exit."

"Yes," the guard replied, relaxing ever so slightly. "I knew what those men were planning, and I didn't want to be a part of any of it."

"Couldn't you have ordered them to stop when they tried to attack me?"

"We're all Level 4 Guards, the highest level below Command Staff, so no, I didn't have the authority to stop what they were doing. Besides, if I tried to stop them, I'd… I know I'd face the same fate as they planned for you."

"Seriously?" Aloy asked, "the guards would assault you, too? But couldn't you report the assault?"

"I know they would, because they have, multiple times… the Bunker is a terrible place to live, and the life of a Guard is especially hard, and for a female guard… it is a man's Sector. General Ormstead not only looks the other way, he encourages it. He thinks it builds character.

"You have no idea how badly I want out, all the women in the Bunker want out. But where would we go? The male Guards will hunt us down and drag us back. We've had female Guards who have escaped the torture for good, not by getting out, but by taking their own lives…"

There were tears in the woman's eyes as she spoke, then she shook visibly, sniffled once, and looked straight at Aloy. "I've got to go now – the others will be looking for me. I'm on duty and I'm supposed to be at my post inside. Please, go in peace, and whatever you do, never come back to this hellish place!" The woman turned and opened the door once more.

Aloy was unsure what, if anything, to say. What could she tell this woman that might console her? That she would go back into the Bunker and… What? Beg for the woman's release? Take over the Bunker by force? Threaten to summon the wrath of the Great Goddess Miriam? She could not fathom the horrors this guard was living inside the closed walls of Pentagon West, and if this was a top-level guard, what was life like for those at the lowest level?

The entire experience reaffirmed her opinion that things were really wrong in the Bunker. She retrieved her belongings and started the trek to the top of the hill to the east, into the rising sun.


	6. Chapter 6: A Reunion of Sorts

From the crest of the hill above the Bunker, Aloy could clearly see the trail she and Cary had taken just the night before. Even though the sun was still low in the Eastern sky, the air was warm and the patches of short grass and soil about her seemed to be emitting heat. She knew it was going to be a hot day, despite the fact that this was late winter, and it was likely snowing back home in the Savage East. To the south were low clouds, puffy white and brown, seeming to boil up from the land. A wind was picking up from the south, moving the blades of grass and dots of weeds on the otherwise barren hillside. _A storm may be brewing_. Far to the north a wisp of smoke rose lazily, possibly from the settlement where they had stopped to eat, or perhaps from a Bandit Camp, such as Skulldriver Bandit Nation.

She followed the trail northward toward the abandoned building where she was to meet the Bandit Killer Paintface. As she set out on the journey, she tried the bit of the processed food the guard had stashed away for her. It proved uninteresting, a plant-textured paste with some kind of milky substance acting as a glue to keep it all packed tightly. She looked forward to passing through the settlement once more and stopping for a drink and a serving of stew.

It was early evening when Aloy reached the abandoned building. Her Focus showed it empty, and no signs of human life appeared anywhere in her scan. She was not yet willing to trust Paintface completely, so she chose to find a patch of tall grass outside the building where she could sit and use her Banuk wrap to fend off the increasingly stiff wind. If the rendezvous were a trap, she wouldn't make it easy for the Bandits to pull off.

She sat quietly for hours, listening for any signs of life and hearing none. She was sure she heard the mechanical whirs and clanks of Machines once or twice, but her Focus revealed nothing, so she remained, hiding outside the dark building, dozing at times.

Faint voices from the distance, down the hill on the far side of the building, roused Aloy from her half-slumber. She sat in her makeshift nest in the grass and activated her Focus. Three humans approached, none of them trying very hard to be quiet. Two were identified as hostile Bandits, the third as Paintface, and friendly.

With the help of her Focus, Aloy could make out the conversation. It seemed to be between Paintface and a male Bandit, as the third member of the party lagged several steps behind.

"…I think this is the place!" Paintface was saying as she walked toward the dark building. "Let me go in first and I'll see if she's there. You can watch for Machines or people around here – this is a popular rest stop."

"Okay, but if you're not out in ten minutes, we're coming in," the male responded. He and the third Bandit stopped, as Paintface continued to walk up the shallow hill to the building.

Aloy waited until Paintface was in the building, then she deactivated her Focus, gathered her possessions, and moved, slowly and quietly, toward the open doorway. She listened for any sign that the two Bandits outside the building were on the move.

"Aloy? Are you here?" Paintface whispered in the dark. "Aloy?"

As she reached the doorway, Aloy answered, lance in hand, "yes, I'm here."

"Oh! Oh, sorry, you startled me. I thought I'd see some sign from you. But it's good that you didn't start a fire – my companions would have been even more suspicious than they already are."

"I thought you'd come alone," Aloy commented.

"Not possible," Paintface replied with a sigh. "Skulldriver had lots of questions about you, and even though I told him I'd be safe, I don't think he trusted me. I had to talk to those two guys outside all the way about how you wouldn't come out if you saw them.

"Look, we don't have much time, so here's the story: I convinced Skulldriver that you were a rogue Bandit, looking for a tribe to join, after your own tribe was wiped out by Raiders. We've got to make you look the part fast – we've only got a few minutes."

"Uh, wait," Aloy objected, "this doesn't sound right to me. I don't want to look like a Bandit – I've been wiping out Bandit tribes in my homeland, and I have no love for Bandits, nor they for me, so –"

"I understand that," Paintface interjected, "really I do, but if you go walking into the camp looking like… well, like you … the Bandits will do something we'll both regret. Everyone's heard the stories of the fire-haired Bandit killer and Machine tamer from the Savage East, and boy, you're exactly what we all picture! So we've got to make you look like a Bandit, quickly."

"I think I'm losing interest in this whole adventure, Paintface. Maybe we should call this off? If you want me to meet your leader, just tell him we can talk someplace neutral, one-on-one."

"No, please," Paintface was breaking down, her voice quivering. _This woman has some real emotional issues_ , Aloy thought, _she can cry at will. This still sounds like a bad idea, but…_

A quality Aloy possessed, whether inherited from the DNA of Dr. Sobeck or the upbringing by Rost, was an almost unhealthy level of curiosity. Her instincts had protected her from her natural curiosity so far, but she was having doubts about this entire scheme. Still, the chance to infiltrate a Bandit camp in the Forbidden West… what might she find?

Aloy succumbed. "Okay," she said with a sigh, "let's do this. What do I need to do?"

"Well, first we have to get rid of that red hair…"

"What? What do you mean, 'get rid of'?"

"I mean, I brought a sharp knife and I'm going to shave your head…"

"No you're not! I'm not vain about my hair or anything, and if it were life or death, then okay, but I think we can find a better solution than my going bald!"

"No, this is the only way. Look, I'll just shave the sides of your head. You can keep a patch on top that we'll hide with a scarf I brought. I have some lampblack that we'll rub on the sides of your head, so the red roots will look black, but we can't cover all your fiery hair with this stuff.

"Now hold really still – it's hard to see in the dark, and I'd rather not remove an ear if I can avoid it. I'm going to do this by feel…"

"Why do you think cutting my hair will work? Do you really think I'm dressed like a Bandit?"

"No problem, I have some old Bandit garb with me. I don't think it's ever been washed, so it should have a... _distinctive_... odor that will cover your scent."

"Um, my _scent_?" Aloy asked as she attempted to stand perfectly still: she could faintly see the knife as it lopped off her braids and began to slice off chunks of her red hair.

"Aloy, we're _Bandits_ ," Paintface explained as she continued to shear Aloy's flowing hair. "You smell too… _clean_ … to be a Bandit. Uncontaminated water is hard to find here, so we don't get to bathe or wash our clothes very often. Your scent is too _good_ to be a Bandit's."

Aloy wanted to object once again to the entire plan – but as Paintface moved about her, lopping off hair and pulling the knife blade upward along her head, she was interrupted by a voice from outside.

"Hey, Paintface, we're comin' in!"

Paintface jumped at the sound of the male voice. "Oh, my," she said as she stopped shaving Aloy's head,"I'm sorry, I think I might have nicked you! Hopefully it won't bleed too much."

Aloy had bigger concerns at the moment: what would the Bandits say when they found her, half-bald, but still wearing her Shield Weave armor and holding her lance?

Paintface called out to the Bandit, "Just a minute! She's here, but she's … busy … at the moment. Girl stuff. Don't come in, I'll be right out!"

"Okay, one more minute, that's all!" the male voice answered.

Paintface stowed her knife and reached into a pouch tied around her waist. She found Aloy's hand and slipped something into it. "This is the lampblack," Paintface whispered. "You'll have to smear it on your head. It's really dark, so if you miss a spot no one will notice tonight.

"I just dropped a package next to you. It's got your Bandit garb, including the scarf to tie over your head. I recommend you leave all your other belongings here – bring your lance, and maybe one bow and some arrows, but no other clothing, because Bandits travel light. Hide them in here if you can find a place. I'll go out and buy you a few more minutes, but then you'd better be ready to go!"

Aloy thought she'd hated this whole plan from the outset, but now she _really_ hated it. Pretending to be a practitioner of a cutthroat and deadly lifestyle, a lifestyle she despised… losing almost all her hair… dressing in smelly Bandit clothes… leaving her treasured weapons and clothing, especially her armor… to infiltrate a Bandit camp where she stood a good chance at being caught… why did she ever say yes?

"Come on out!" a male voice shouted from outside the building. Aloy was in the process of ditching the last of her clothing, wrapped in her Banuk fur, under a pile of weeds in a far corner of the building. She hurriedly pulled on a pair of pants that was too big for her, stuck her arms through the tattered sleeves of a shirt that was bare at the midriff and definitely too large, as she realized that there was no footwear in the bundle – she'd have to wear the boots from her Shield Weave armor and hope no one noticed.

Aloy pulled the neckerchief over her red hair and tied it in back, hoping it really covered what was left of her hair. As she exited the building, she smeared handfuls of lampblack on either side of her head. For good measure, she rubbed a bit of it onto her cheeks as well: _maybe this will help hide the freckles_.

She could see the starlit outline of the three Bandits, standing together, just feet from the entrance, Paintface looking fidgety and nervous off to the right of the two men.

"Guys," Paintface said with an obviously nervous quiver in her voice, "this is the Bandit… uh… I don't know… what's your name?"

"Red Devil," answered Aloy: she really wasn't very good at pretending to be someone she wasn't and that was the best she could do on the spot.

"Red Devil? _Red Devil_?" one of the men chuckled. "What the heck kind of a name is that? Doesn't strike fear in me, I can tell ya that."

"Red," Aloy replied, thinking as she spoke, "because I like to see the red blood of my victims when I slit their throats, and Devil because I can do it to anyone at any time. Want a demonstration?" Aloy took a step toward the man, unsure if he was aware of the move in the near-total darkness.

"N-no, I… I didn't mean anything by it," the man stammered.

Paintface had regained her composure –assisted in part by the role Aloy had assumed. "We'd better get going. Skulldriver wants to meet the Devil tonight."

A rustling noise from somewhere in the distance drove them to silence. Instinctively, Aloy reached for the Focus at her temple, then realized that she didn't dare use it: the device emitted a noticeable glow when activated, and she was certain these Bandits would be suspicious. Instead, she placed her hand over the Focus and gently pulled it from her temple, closed her hand around it, and tucked it into the ammo pouch she wore on a leather strap about her waist.

"Bandits? Or Machines?" a high-pitched voice whispered. Aloy assumed it was the second male Bandit, speaking for the first time.

"Probably human," the first Bandit whispered back, "come here to settle in for the night. They can't be from our camp, we're the only scouts assigned to this area."

"Can't tell how many, but maybe we should do something about them. Can't have them follow us."

"Right. You all stay here, I'm going to go through the brush on the right and see if I can get a head count." This Bandit was clearly the leader of the group.

"Let me do it," Aloy whispered.

"Yes, let the Devil go," Paintface said. "Take my word for it, she's very stealthy."

"Yeah, okay," answered the leader. "Go around the right. If we hear anything from the left or out the door, we kill 'em, even if it's you."

"Then you three stay here," Aloy replied, "because if I hear anything around me I'm going to do the same."

"Go!" the Bandit ordered.

It was almost a relief for Aloy, moving swiftly and silently through patches of tall grass that swayed and rattled in the now-blustery wind, and hunkering behind rusting piles of rubble as she approached the side of the small building. This was much easier for her than pretending to be something she wasn't – and worse, something she despised.

When she reached the corner of the building, at the apex of the small hill, she retrieved her Focus from her pouch and placed it back onto her temple. With her hand held over the device to try to block the glow, she activated the Focus and looked about her.

Only feet away was a group of people, bunched together so it was difficult to sort them out, but it appeared to be five or six. The Focus identified them as hostile Bandits. Further down the trail to the north was another, larger group, too far away to get a firm head count but perhaps eight to ten more Bandits. The distant group was standing in a cluster, apparently unconcerned about hiding, but the closer group was crouched in a thicket of weeds, as they appeared to be discussing whether the building was safe to enter.

Aloy looked behind her, and her Focus confirmed that Paintface and the other two Bandits – all identified as friendly ( _friendly Bandits? Who'd have thought?_ ) – were still hidden in tall grass, some distance away. She deactivated and stowed her Focus once again before retracing her path to rejoin her new allies.

"Bandits," she whispered once she was hidden in the grass, "no more than a dozen or so. We can get away if we want…"

" _What?_ " Bandit #2 almost shouted, forcing the leader to hiss at him to be quieter. "What?" the Bandit repeated, much more quietly. "We never run."

"Weren't you listening to what this girl just said?" the leader whispered. "A dozen or so? Against you and me and two useless girls?"

Aloy started to speak in protest, but Paintface was first. "How about Devil and I take them all out? That way you two won't get yourselves hurt. Besides, Red Devil is better at this than all of us put together."

"Okay, here's the deal," the leader whispered. "Paintface, you and Devil see what you can do, and once you're both dead we'll finish the job."

"You're forgetting," Paintface replied, "Skulldriver expects to meet this Bandit tonight. And you're definitely underestimating what we can do. So we take your deal, and we'll be back in a few minutes.

"Come on, Alo – uh… Devil, let's move."

Reluctantly, Aloy followed Paintface back to the corner of the building. She knew she could take out the Bandits alone, and frankly, she was not impressed with Paintface's style, or her demeanor. She decided she'd get Paintface to hold back until most of the Bandits were dead.

As Aloy crawled silently through the weeds and grass, Paintface followed, almost standing erect and making much too much noise. Fortunately, the winds that blew about them helped disguise Paintface's noisy trudging as the two reached a vantage near the small group.

Aloy tapped Paintface on the shoulder to get her attention; Paintface let out a squeal and recoiled at the sudden contact. Aloy waited a moment, listening to try to determine if the hostile Bandit group showed any sign of having heard the squeal. Nothing: they were safe for the moment. Aloy waved an open palm close to Paintface's face, trying to gesture that she should stay put, but there was no way to know if Paintface even saw the gesture, much less understood what it meant.

With her bow in one hand, Aloy took three arrows out of their quiver and began to nock each one. She knew that an accurate shot would likely take out three people, but if she got only two with the first volley she planned to launch a second one as quickly as possible. She waited for a strong gust of wind to move the weeds and create a noise, then pulled the bowstring back and aimed in the direction of the last known location of the Bandit group. _Here goes nothing_.

Before she could unleash the first volley of arrows, she heard a faint, odd sound. It seemed to be coming from somewhere to the east, possibly from atop a distant hill. Aloy paused and listened, as another noise suddenly began, this time from just the other side of the building behind her: voices, frantic, and sounds of loud footsteps coming their way.

"Alarm!" a voice shouted: it had the high-pitch tone of the Bandit #2 from Paintface's group. She was certain the two Bandits were running toward her – and hence toward the two groups of hostile Bandits – and yelling about something. "That's the alarm! There's a Rad storm coming!"

It might have been a comical sight if it weren't so dark: two Bandits running in a panic, a shocked cluster of hostile Bandits looking confused and uncertain about what was happening, another group staring from a short distance away, Paintface standing up amidst the patch of grass, Aloy, still hunkered down with her bow drawn, ready to fire multiple arrows, and a high-pitched and weak warble from far away announcing impending doom. It _might_ have been a comical sight – except these were deadly enemies, willing to pounce and kill at a moment's notice.

Paintface bolted toward the two Bandits, turning only briefly in Aloy's direction to yell, "Come on! Rad storm!" Aloy relaxed the grip on her bowstring and quickly retrieved her Focus. Activated, the Focus showed the three erstwhile-friendly Bandits disappearing down the hill toward the east, in full run; the small group of hostile Bandits muttering to one another; and the larger group still clustered, not moving.

 _This is going to get ugly!_ Aloy realized. _Not only am I alone, these hostiles know I'm here. Run or fight? Twelve – or more – against one?_

Given a hundred possible different outcomes, Aloy would never have guessed what transpired next.

An uncertain voice almost whispered into the darkness, "Who's there? There are only a few of us, so if we're outnumbered go ahead and kill us, we won't fight, we can't fight!"

It was then that Aloy realized that her Focus revealed not a single offensive weapon among the close group, and the far group was slowly walking up the shallow hill, some of the adults carrying children and others supporting injured or wounded fellows.

She chose to remain hidden in the grass until she was certain of this group's intentions. She called out, "Why can't you fight? Are you ready to defend yourselves? Maybe we should just end this charade right now!" She hoped the Bandits bought off on the plural "we" and didn't know she was alone.

"We are the last survivors," the voice, that seemed to be female but crackled too much to be certain, "our Camp was destroyed by a herd of Machines. We're all that's left, and we're too hurt to be a threat to you."

"Bandits, surrendering so easily? I smell a trap," Aloy replied.

"Fine, then, if you're going to kill us, hurry up and do it. We are too weak to stop you. We thought if this shack was empty we'd rest up for the night, then move on in the morning. We'll be looking for a new home."

 _Now this is a strange turn of events!_ Aloy thought. _I'm in charge of a dozen Bandits and there's a Rad storm coming_.

She spoke directly to the male Bandit. "Are you their leader?"

"Well," Aloy could tell by his pause that the man was surveying his companions in the dim light, "I guess I am, sort of. Most of the others are hurt, some pretty badly. I was on patrol for food when the Machines attacked, so I got back to the Camp after the pack was already moving on. I rounded up everyone I could find that was still alive, and we're it."

"Okay," Aloy replied as she mulled all the options – hers and those of this band of defeated Bandits. "You shouldn't stay in that building – most of the roof is gone and the Rad storm is likely to finish you off."

"We understand that," the Bandit replied. "We had an empty storage barn in our Camp, and we'd all hunker down in it whenever a Rad storm hit. Good protection. But that barn got torn up with the rest of the Camp, so here we are."

"There's a village a few hours south of here," Aloy explained as she recalled the small trailside rest stop, "and they must have some place to hide. But it's hours by foot even if you're healthy, and it doesn't sound like your group is healthy. Besides, the storm is coming up from the south, so you'd be walking toward it.

"The best option will be to go with me to a Camp I've never been to myself, a place called the Skulldriver Camp."

"Shit no!" the Bandit leader shouted. "We know about that place – they've killed a lot of our best men and women, and I don't think another Bandit's going to accept us right now!"

"Fine," Aloy shrugged, then realized the Bandits couldn't have seen the gesture. "It was an offer. You might die – I might die – but if you stay out in this storm you're dead for sure. I'm going to find the Skulldriver Camp and hope they don't kill me before I find a way in."

Aloy turned from the Bandit group and walked in the direction of the building: _if a Rad storm is coming, I'm not leaving my stuff to get contaminated!_ She walked in the near door, lifted the pile of weeds and rubble covering her Banuk-wrap bundle, and scooped the bundle up under one arm. She could hear the Bandits outside where they still stood, low conversation between several men and women, some voices sounding angry.

She exited the eastern doorway and activated her Focus. It was trivial to identify the footsteps of Paintface and the other two Bandits as they led down the gentle sloping hill and up onto a more distant, equally gentle upslope. She knew she'd have no problem following those tracks to the Skulldriver Camp. What she couldn't know was whether she'd be welcomed with open arms or a hailstorm of arrows. Or if she'd even make it before the other storm struck with a shower of irradiated rain.

As she started down the hill, Aloy heard muffled voices and the sounds of footsteps behind her. She stopped and turned; with her Focus, she could see that the Bandit group was now following her, perhaps fifty paces behind, moving slowly as some members of the group sought support from others, adults carried young children, and the strongest of the group carried injured adults.

 _I've gone from capturing a gang of Bandits to leading them_ , Aloy thought. She knew she had but two choices: continue her pace and leave the ragtag band of wounded behind, or slow her pace and help them as she searched for the (alleged) safety of the Skulldriver Bandit Nation. In either case, she stood a decent chance of falling victim to the Rad storm herself, likely leading to a slow degradation in health, and ultimately her death. Aloy was not the type to abandon those in need.

Her mind made up, Aloy reversed course and joined the slow-moving gang. The group was aware of her approach and the erstwhile leader motioned for them to stop. When Aloy reached the group, she walked past the main cluster, to a young girl, perhaps only five or six, who walked alone, struggling to catch up with the others. Aloy reached down and scooped the girl up in her arms, and without speaking, turned to continue her course, tracking the footsteps of the three fleeing Bandits from Skulldriver Bandit Nation.

The erstwhile leader of the wounded group sped his pace to match that of Aloy, though he said nothing. After several minutes of silent, and painfully slow, progress, Aloy spoke first.

"You know," she began, "you're walking toward a hostile Bandit camp. Even if we find the camp, and if we beat storm, and if your group survives the march…"

"We may all be put to death before we reach the gates," the leader completed Aloy's sentence. "If you could see us now, you'd see that we are almost dead already. We have nowhere to go that will protect us from the deadly rainstorm. We have no choice but to follow you and beg for mercy from your Bandit leader."

" _My_ Bandit leader?" Aloy responded. "I don't have a Bandit leader, certainly not at this camp. I know only one member of the Nation, and she may be dead for all I know. I'm planning to ask for shelter, just like you and your… team."

"But you… you talk like a Bandit, and even in the shadow of night I can see your Bandit clothing and your Bandit lance and bow! How can you be without a Camp?"

"Simple," Aloy answered, but she really meant _give me a minute and I'll make something up_. "My Camp was destroyed, like yours, but by a gang of thieves and assassins. I was out scouting at the time of the attack or I'd have been killed along with my brothers and sisters." Frankly, she didn't know _how_ Bandits really talked: she was accustomed to hunting and killing Bandits, or facing them in combat that always ended badly for them. She was sticking with the story Paintface had concocted, hoping she was sounding convincing while retelling a total fabrication.

Apparently it worked.

"Ah, yes, we heard stories of some crazy woman, lived somewhere north of here, hired a bunch of lowlife killers to destroy every Bandit camp they could find. But we also heard that woman met her own end, so why would the hired killers still be operating?"

Aloy had to think fast! "Well, you see, my camp was wiped out a couple of weeks ago, and I've been hiding out ever since. Maybe that was before the crazy woman was defeated?"

"Yes," the leader answered, "that's probably the case. So, are you going to try to join up with the… what did you say the Bandit Camp was called? The one you're trying to find?"

"The Skulldriver Bandit Nation."

"So are you going to ask to join this Bandit Nation?"

"If I'm not filled full of arrows first, yes," Aloy replied. There was nothing to be gained by telling this Bandit the truth: that the leader, Skulldriver himself, wished to meet her and would probably not want her dead. Probably. As for the rest of this group…

"You should know," Aloy attempted to explain, "that even if we find the Bandit Nation…"

"Wait" the man interjected. "You don't know where it is? How do you hope to find it?"

"I don't know where it is, but apparently it's not too far or those Bandits you heard back at the building wouldn't have taken off running like they did. I'm just following their tracks…"

"Following their tracks? Not possible! I certainly don't see any tracks in the dark, how can you?"

"I'm a very good scout," Aloy stated calmly, not wishing to elaborate: she could still clearly see the faint purple glow of three sets of footprints, leading up and over the shallow hill ahead, exposed by her Focus some minutes ago. "Trust me, I've done this sort of thing before."

"Amazing! I still think it's impossible, but you get us to the camp and I'll be impressed!"

"Fair enough, just try to keep your group moving. The winds from the south are getting stronger and you can smell the moisture in the air – it's going to rain any minute now.

"As I was saying, when we reach the camp, you and your group will stay in hiding and let me go to the front gates alone. I'll try to reason with anyone who'll listen, and I'll try to convince them that you all want to join their Nation. But you've got to stay out of sight! Understood?"

"Understood."

The two fell silent once more. Aloy could tell that the young girl she carried in her arms had gone limp, presumably from exhaustion and not from… well, presumably the girl was asleep.

After perhaps an hour of slow, labored movement, the group crested the shallow hill. Aloy had noticed some time before that there was a faint glow atop the hill, from what she assumed were fires and torches just on the other side, hopefully the Skulldriver Bandit Nation.

As the group completed the march to the top of the hill, each in turned stopped to gaze in awe at the spectacle below: a huge expanse of huts, small buildings, clusters of fires, what appeared to be wide streets running through them, all surrounded by makeshift barriers of wood, metal, Machine parts, ancient wreckage – whatever the occupants could muster, apparently, to form simple walls. Guard towers stood here and there along the walls, but it was too dark to tell if any were staffed. It was obvious the settlement itself was completely abandoned, but with fires and standing torches left to light up the large city as if it were a tribute to no one.

Aloy's heart sank at the sight: _if no one's here, where are they? Who am I going to speak with? If there are guards, how do I reason with them before they open fire? Where did Paintface and the other two Bandits go?_

She wanted to activate her Focus and scan the camp, but she knew it would raise suspicions – and most likely an attack – among the Bandits who stood about her. The footprints she'd followed continued down the hill toward what was most likely a gate, then disappeared behind the gate. That confirmed for Aloy that she was in the right place – but at entirely the wrong time.

Then she saw the gate – scarcely larger than two people wide, porous and definitely weak protection from a determined aggressor – swing to the right, two people holding spears exited and stood outside the gate, as a third emerged from behind it. She was certain that person was Paintface.

Aloy turned to the Bandit leader and extended the lump of sleeping child toward him. The man whispered, "What do you want me to do with her? She's not mine!"

"Take her, I'm going to go talk to my friend and you're going to hold her. If she's not with you next time we talk, you'll pay personally." Aloy was serious, but her concern for the girl clearly didn't conform to a Bandit's code, as the leader took the girl and passed her on to a woman who stood some distance behind him. Her compassion for the innocent outweighed any Bandit code of conduct, even if this "leader" didn't like it.

Aloy moved to stand nearest the main cluster of Bandits and said, "You've got to be quiet for now. If this works I'll be back to get you, I promise." She didn't wait for a response as she quickly pivoted and almost ran down the hill toward the woman standing in the open gateway. _If that's not Paintface, I may be dead soon_.

But it was Paintface, and as Aloy approached the lights from the camp's torches lit her clearly. Paintface waved frantically at Aloy, but the two guards brought their spears from their shoulders to point them menacingly at Aloy.

"Put those damn things down!" Paintface scolded the men. Reluctantly, they did as ordered. Paintface motioned even more frantically at Aloy.

"Aloy – um, Red Devil," Paintface said in a low but clearly frantic voice, "come, come, hurry! I'm the last one in camp – well, me and these two _morons_ that Skulldriver sent out – and the Shelter is on the other side of camp. We've got to hurry if we're going to beat the storm!"

"Yes, well, about that…" Aloy said as she neared the trio at the gate.

"About what" Paintface asked.

"Do you remember those Bandits we saw? At the hilltop building? Well, after you left, they sort of… _surrendered_."

"What on earth do you mean? To whom?"

"To me."

Paintface paused in shock. "Let me get this straight. After we left you, you captured a bunch of hostiles all by yourself?"

"No, I didn't have to capture them, they surrendered to me. They're the last of a Bandit camp that was overrun by Machines and most of them are in really bad shape. And they have no shelter from the Rad storm."

"Too damn bad!" Paintface shouted, sufficiently loudly that Aloy was certain the group of Bandits on the hilltop behind her must have heard. "Let them die! We are not responsible for saving the lives of cutthroats!"

Aloy was taken aback by Paintface's tone: only a few short days ago, this woman was weeping and lamenting her condition as a captive herself, held by the Skulldriver Nation. Now she was showing absolutely no empathy for other unfortunates.

"They're all too weak to pose any threat," Aloy calmly explained, "and you can lock them in chains for now, I don't think they'd mind if it meant their survival. Besides, they're with me, and where I go, they go."

"Damn you!" Paintface shouted angrily at Aloy. "You're willing to _die_ because we won't provide shelter to a bunch of Bandits who are almost dead already?"

"That's right," Aloy replied.

In the short silence that followed, the first drops of rain began to fall. The drops were large but intermittent, falling sidewards in the strong wind blowing from the south.

"That's the storm!" Paintface exclaimed. "We may already be too late! Please, Aloy – Devil, come with me now!"

"Tell you what," Aloy answered, "I'll wait here while you run and check with your Bandit leader Skulldriver. If he wants to meet me so badly, tell him I come with a dozen or so injured friends. If he wants me to come alone, you tell him why I can't do that."

"Shit," Paintface muttered as she stared upward at the cloudy, and increasingly rainy, night sky. "All right, you win. Get those people down here, and in the meantime, you and I will go ahead to the shelter."

"You go if you wish," Aloy replied, "I'm going to help the weaker ones to the Shelter. Hey Guards, drop your spears and come help me."

"The guards stood in stunned silence, looking to Paintface for guidance. "Fine, do as she says! Go with her!"

Aloy removed the bundle of clothing and weapons strapped over her shoulder and tossed it to Paintface as she turned and began to sprint back up the hill to the Bandits. The guards stood by Paintface, unsure of what to do. "What are you standing here for? Go! Go!"

The guards dropped their spears and sprinted after Aloy, up the short hill. Moments later, as the intensity of the rain increased, the group appeared on the side of the hill, wending down toward the open gate. Paintface waited inside the gate with Aloy's bundle and the guards' spears as the group entered the camp. Paintface paused after the last of the group entered, then turned and closed the gate, leaving Aloy to wonder why she even bothered.

14


	7. Chapter 7: Shelter from the Storm

They made a pathetic-looking bunch: Paintface struggling to carry extra weapons while leading the way, her two companions trailing the parade, warily watching the foreigners in the middle. In between came the demoralized Bandits, limping, shuffling feet, trying to stay in step with Paintface; Aloy walking closely behind Paintface and scanning the shallow hill to their right for any signs of attack from the residents of this place; and the two Bandit guards with a wounded straggler of a Bandit hanging onto them as they trailed the mass of people. Aloy knew that if the residents of this camp wished, they could cut this motley group down with a quick volley of arrows or a single well-planted hand-thrown bomb, and she would be powerless to stop them. _I should be wearing my Shield Weave Armor under these rotten Bandit clothes!_ Aloy thought.

The sprinkles of rain had turned into a steady downpour, dampening the brown soil and suppressing any dust the shuffling of feet might otherwise have kicked up. But it also quickly drenched the light layers of clothing worn by all but the Bandit guards. And of course, Aloy realized there was a chance they were getting pelted by Radiation as well. It was imperative that they get out of the rain soon.

They were walking between what Aloy had suspected were makeshift tents, long rows of them on either side of the wide path they followed. But she realized that these were not tents at all, as she could make out the trunks of trees here and there: the canvas material that stretched alongside the trail covered an orchard of small trees with silver-gray trunks. In the darkness it was impossible to clearly distinguish any other features, but there seemed to be several rows of covered trees. It appeared this Bandit camp grew these trees and probably had covered them against the falling rain.

The ever-harder rainfall brought a chill to Aloy and made her wonder how the more seriously wounded would fare after this exposure. She split her time between watching Paintface trudge ahead, eyeing her surroundings for any signs of ambush, and keeping an eye on the captive Bandits that followed behind her.

Finally, through the darkness and the rain, Aloy saw their destination: what appeared to be a cave opening at the edge of a hill, jutting out in front of them from right to left. No lights shone ahead, so she couldn't be sure, but she thought as she walked: _There's something familiar about this_.

When the group reached the edge of the cave and assembled in a cold, dark, and damp alcove out of the rain, Aloy realized why it looked so familiar. There were dirt mounds here and there, half as tall as she, and a musty smell permeated the thick air, but she was quite sure: they had entered the holding room for a long-abandoned Cradle, a structure built by the Ancient Ones to store the seeds of life and to repopulate the planet with humans, once the Earth had been made habitable following the Faro Plague. This Cradle had been destroyed by something ( _Did the Machines break through the outer doors? Almost a thousand years ago?_ Aloy pondered), and it seemed to have no inner seal, the large, triangular door that had protected the Cradle known as Eleuthia-9 in her homeland. If this was indeed a destroyed Cradle, Aloy suspected there would be little to discover within its walls – if its walls still stood.

Paintface broke the silence.

"If… if you'll all stay here," she began, stopping to take in a breath, "I'll see if we can enter the Great Hall."

 _Great Hall?_ Aloy thought. _If this is an ancient Cradle, what is the Great Hall? Eleuthia-9 didn't have a room like that – at least as far as I could find_.

Paintface disappeared into the darkness of the cave. Aloy thought she heard a muffled "Oof!" and a curse word: Paintface had likely run into something in the dark.

Aloy realized that Paintface hadn't been carrying the Bandits' spears – or Aloy's bundle of clothing and possessions – when she left. So they must be in the cave somewhere.

Moving about the dark cave, trying not to step on any of the captive Bandits sitting or lying about the area, Aloy noted a glint of something shiny near the opening. On approach, she saw it was the blade of a spear, and next to it, the bundled Banuk fur holding her valuables. She opened the fur and fished around a bit, finally coming upon a small green canister: a container of Blaze, the highly flammable substance that made fire arrows and long-burning torches possible. She located a palm-sized steel bar, and next to it, a shard of flint stone, both tucked away in a pouch. She poured a small amount of blaze on the ground beside her, struck the flint with the steel once, twice – a few sparks sparkled in the air, then a third time – a spark landed on the Blaze and instantly the fluid burst into flames, providing a bit of eerie green light and a modicum of heat to the cold cave.

Aloy looked around at the Bandits, all watching her, some in awe, and spotted the little girl she'd carried not long ago. The girl was hugging the leg of a young woman ( _that's got to be her sister, she's too young to be her mother!_ ) and staring at the dancing sheet of green flames on the ground. Aloy motioned for the girl to approach, and at the older girl's urging, the child walked toward Aloy, still watching the flames. "Sit down here by the fire," Aloy motioned to the Banuk fur, spread like a rug beside the fire. The child hesitated, then walked up beside Aloy and almost collapsed onto the fur. She lay on her side, staring intently at the flickering flames.

"I know you're all wet, and you've got to be cold, so don't be shy, come on over and sit," Aloy said as she stood, Blaze in one hand and flint and steel in the other. "I'll get another fire going over here – " she waved at her feet in another open area just a few steps from the current fire "—for the rest of you.

"And you, too," she said as she turned to the Bandit guards. "I don't have a lot and it won't last long, so get dry while you can."

A noise came from deep within the belly of the cave. It sounded like muffled voices, a group of people coming from out of the darkness. Aloy pivoted on the mound of silt and clay that she'd used as a stool and faced the direction of the voices. Soon she could make out the faint glow of flame, yellow-orange and moving toward her. Concerned that this could be an ambush, she moved away from the rest of the group, retrieved her Focus, placed it upon her right temple and tapped it alive.

Six humans, all Bandits. One of them was Paintface, and all were carrying weapons. Both the lead and trail Bandits carried hand torches. They didn't appear to be an immediate threat, as their conversations seemed casual and light.

As the Bandits appeared from a doorway, Aloy deactivated her Focus and stored it back in her waist pouch.

"Aloy! Aloy, I told you I'd bring help!" Paintface broke into a trot, dodging debris as she ran toward Aloy. The other five Bandits, three men and two women, approached much more slowly.

One of the men spoke.

"Aloy? _A-loy_? What kind of name is that? Are you really from a Bandit camp, because that doesn't sound like a Bandit name to me…"

Paintface stopped cold, realizing her mistake. She turned back to the approaching Bandits. "No, that's not her name! I was just saying hello, you know 'aloy there!"

"Uh, yeah, okay, sure," the Bandit said, but Aloy could tell he didn't believe the story. She had to help out.

"And 'aloy to you too, Paintface!" Aloy called out as she gave a small wave of the hand. "You can call me Red Devil."

"Uh huh," the Bandit looked disinterested in any conversation. "We have orders to take you to a holding cell until our boss figures out what to do with you. You and the rest of your Bandit gang.

"And while we're at it, what Bandit camp are you from, anyway?"

 _Uh oh_ , Aloy thought, _I wasn't ready for that question!_ She had to make something up quickly, or tell the Bandit it was none of his business. But as she considered the best answer, a male Bandit behind her spoke up. She recognized him as the de facto leader of the lost group.

"We're from the Timberland Camp," the man said. "You've probably heard of us, because we've heard of this camp. We're all that's left. Machines attacked."

"Nah, never heard of your camp. Well you're now prisoners of the baddest of badass camps in the West, and you'll probably be put to death in the morning. Now come with us. Off to a prison cell."

"No no no!" Paintface shouted at the Bandit. "Maybe all of these people, but Skulldriver wants to meet this woman, right _now_."

"Is that so?" the Bandit replied. "Well, Red Herring – " Aloy interrupted: "Devil! That's Red Devil!" "Yeah, okay," the Bandit continued, "so, Red Dead-by-morning, why don't you and I just go see the boss."

"Wait a minute!" Paintface objected. "I told Skulldriver about her, about how she saved my life, so I should be the one to deliver her."

"Too, bad, darlin', I'm in charge here and I say I'm takin' this little girl to see the boss. And you'll help these folks get introduced to their new home."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Aloy spoke, "but I think I'll make sure all these people are safe and warm, then I'll meet your 'boss'." Aloy had two real concerns: that the Bandits were there to slaughter their new prisoners; and that this belligerent ass had more in mind than just taking Aloy to see his boss. She'd had enough encounters with men like this to know they usually had ulterior motives for getting her alone, and she didn't really relish having to run the guy through with her lance while wandering the depths of a hostile Bandit camp.

"Sorry to say this to _you_ , bitch – if you think I'm going to do somethin' to you, you're wrong. Damn, why don't you take a bath sometime? You really reek!"

In a way, this was reassuring to Aloy, and it helped justify her donning the rotten and smelly Bandit clothes that Paintface had given her. Maybe she'd be safe after all. But there was still the matter of the injured and suffering Bandit prisoners. Aloy turned to Paintface and spoke.

"I guess I'll be alright, Paintface, but please promise me you'll find a secure place for these people. I'm going to count on you for that."

"Of course," Paintface replied, even as she glanced rather nervously at the belligerent Bandit. "They'll be alright until you talk to Skulldriver, anyway."

"Okay," Aloy said, looking back at her erstwhile guard, "let's go."

"You first," the man said, waving his torch in the direction of the Cradle. "I'll tell you where to go, just get us to the Great Hall and we'll see if the boss wants to talk to you.

"If not, maybe he'll let me kill you myself."

As Aloy and the Bandit walked slightly downhill into the dimly-lit ruins, she glanced back to see Paintface gathering the captive Bandits and was heartened to see Paintface herself lifting the sleeping young girl, wrapped in Banuk fur, and cradling the girl in her arms.

As they walked, the dim and flickering light of the Bandit's torch bounced off of the gray walls around them. Her theory was confirmed: they were walking a ramp that led through a large, open triangular entryway – what should have been the sealed hatch for a Cradle. There were none of the familiar glowing lights that she'd found in other such structures constructed by the Old Ones. This facility was entirely lifeless.

The walk in the dark was a short one, as the entryway opened into a large circular chamber aglow with torches along the walls. Aloy could hear the muttering of voices, many of them, from all sides of the central chamber. The Bandit silently waved his torch in the direction of a stairway that led down into the lower levels of the chamber. Aloy complied; as she approached the stairway, she could see that there were several anterooms on either side, and dozens, maybe even hundreds, of people in each of the rooms, most of them sprawled on the floor. Some sat in chairs, some on rusted metal that might have once been incubators for the Cradle. The torches threw dancing shadows and light on the entire scene in every room, so it appeared the occupants were moving about and gyrating rhythmically, but she knew that it was just the illusion of the flames. The scene was much the same in each of the four different rooms Aloy and the Bandit walked past; there were easily upwards of a thousand people – presumably all Bandits – in these rooms. And she was only on the top floor of at least three.

As Aloy walked down the stairs to the next level, the Bandit trailed behind her with his torch still held high, and she knew that they had reached the education level: that portion of the Cradle intended to impart the intelligence, the science, the arts, the history of the Ancient Ones onto a generation of innocent children, born and raised in the Cradle for the sole purpose of repopulating the Earth once the scourge of the great Faro Plague had been eliminated. Little did those innocents know that the entire universe of knowledge they were due to learn had actually been erased almost a thousand years ago by the man for whom the Faro Plague was named: Ted Faro. And Aloy knew, from her experience with similar Cradles, that it was likely that none of this facility's occupants had even survived to see the sun: natural and unnatural disasters had stricken many of the Cradles and they had failed in their mission.

Dozens of Bandits lined the walls on this level as well. They seemed to be relatively well-dressed and well-fed – at least as far as she knew about Bandits, anyway – and also well-armed. _Skulldriver's inner guard?_ she pondered. At the far side of the relatively narrow walkway was a simple divider, nothing more than a flap of hide hanging vertically as though to mark off a private area. The Bandit led Aloy to this location and motioned for her to stop.

"Boss," the Bandit spoke above the low murmur of voices, "I got that bitch who killed Bearman."

Aloy heard rustling from behind the flap, then the end was pulled back and two Bandits emerged, lances at hand. They looked sternly at Aloy, as if they might attack at any time. She tensed up, ready to react if they made a move. But a voice from behind the tent, gravelly and hoarse, difficult to understand, stopped them.

"Bring her in," the gravelly voice said, in a low and raspy tone. "Just her! The rest of you idiots stay out."

The two guarding Bandits looked at each other in surprise; Aloy's jailor seemed shocked as well. None of them made a move. So Aloy moved. She stepped between the two Bandits and behind the hide flap. One of the Bandits stuck his head around the flap as she did, and the gravelly voice bellowed out, "I TOLD you to get the hell OUT! If I need you I'll call for you!"

The flap fell limp, not really closing the area off, but at least preventing prying eyes from the outside.

There was really nothing special about the corner sheltered by the hide flap. A simple bedroll lay on one side, against the wall, and there were a couple of simple wooden chairs under a single burning torch.

And there was Skulldriver. He was a massive man, easily weighing three times as much as Aloy, if not more. He sported a thick beard, mostly white but with streaks of black in places. His head was bald – and mangled. Skin was missing in large swaths over the top of his head, and what skin there was seemed to be a dead shade of gray. It looked as if his skull were trying to escape by forcing the skin apart. His eyes were two different colors: the left seemed to have a normal brown iris, but the right was entirely red – no iris visible at all.

Skulldriver was an imposing sight. With the voice of a growling animal, he could, Aloy suspected, strike such fear in people that they would immediately swear allegiance to him. To Aloy, who had witnessed much worse – fierce Machines intent solely on killing her, religious zealots with superhuman strength, evil and insane women wanting to rule the world through death and destruction – this man was not even in her top ten. But still, he was a sight.

Which made what happened next all the more shocking.

In a hushed and humble tone – still gravelly and broken, but noticeably softer – Skulldriver spoke. "You must be thirsty, my dear. Care for some wine? We grow the grapes locally – not the best of conditions, our growing season is too short, but still, all things considered, it's not that bad."

Skulldriver picked up a clay jar, decorated with multicolored lengths of straw woven around the base, and a clay cup. Aloy knew better than to drink anything potent right now: she'd need her wits about her.

"Well, I could use a drink," Aloy replied, "but maybe something with less of a kick? Water is fine, or a juice of some sort."

Skulldriver emitted a grumbling sound: laughter, Aloy suspected. And hoped.

"Sure, sure," Skulldriver said. In a louder voice he spoke in the direction of the flap behind Aloy. "One of you knuckleheads get our guest some grape juice! But not the fermented kind, the stuff we give our kids."

Seconds later, an arm thrust from behind the flap, a cup in its hand. Aloy took the cup, started to say "thank you," but decided better of it: Bandits aren't thankful for anything.

Skulldriver motioned for Aloy to sit in one of the chairs as he sat in the other. After several gulps from his cup, Skulldriver sat forward and looked at Aloy. Menacingly. Or perhaps not – it was hard to tell.

"You know, I should have you put to death. After all, you killed one of my best Scouts. I'm going to miss Bearman."

"Yes, I… I guess I can say I'm sorry," Aloy replied before thinking: _Bandits probably don't apologize!_

"If it were anyone but you, you'd likely be dead already. Most of my camp knows what you did." Another shot of wine. "If it were anyone but you."

"Okay," Aloy replied, a bit concerned about what this Bandit leader might know. "And who am I?"

"Oh come on!" this time Skulldriver let out a real laugh, shaking and sloshing wine from the cup in his hand. "Everyone knows the legends: the fire-haired demon woman, stronger than any man, able to tame Machines as easily as she destroys them. 'Anointed One,' she's called in some parts. Saved the world, maybe more than once.

"Then we hear about you in our land: able to deftly dispatch one of my best Scouts, lay open his son's leg, make friends with that crazy woman Paintface."

"Look," Aloy said, pointing at the blackened splotches of hair sticking out from under the scarf she wore over her head, "not fire haired! You've got me mistaken for someone else. I'm just passing through."

"The hell you are!" Skulldriver roared as he quickly reached his tree-sized open hand and snatched the scarf from Aloy's head, exposing the fiery red tufts that Paintface had not trimmed away or covered with lampblack. "See? You did a pretty poor job cutting your hair. And you've just got… I don't know… something… a _presence_. It's obvious just watching you, you have a confidence that is rare, maybe unique. You are a very special person, and it's a shame you have to try to cover it up! Oh, and you really stink, too."

The tent flap behind Aloy rustled; an arm reached around, and the head of one of the Bandits followed. Aloy quickly turned away, lowering her head toward her lap so the Bandit wouldn't see the mop of red hair. Skulldriver simultaneously tossed the scarf in her lap and yelled at the Bandit, "Dammit! I told you to stay out! This is a private conversation! I'll let you know if I need you, got it?"

"Got it," the Bandit said as head and arm retracted behind the flap.

As Aloy pulled the scarf over her head once again, Skulldriver continued.

"Sorry about the interruption. These guys are already pretty suspicious of you, and like I said, most of 'em want to kill you just because of what you did to Bearman and his son. But I'll make sure they don't succeed. I hope."

Aloy glanced at Skulldriver as he took another swig of wine. Was he joking? Was her life really in that much danger here?

Skulldriver seemed unfazed as he lowered his cup and spoke solemnly. "Yep, Bearman was one of my best Scouts, had been ever since some of my men saved him and his family from the Halfmen."

"Halfmen?" Aloy asked. "Who's that?"

"More like a 'what' than a 'who'. We think they used to be humans, but the Rad sickness, or some disease or other, rotted away their brains. Now they live in the shadows of the Radiated City. They attack people, catch 'em unawares, and then they pounce on 'em and eat 'em raw. They do seem to have some kind of social structure – they work as a pack to surround their prey, they never seem to attack each other, and there are always hundreds of 'em, no matter how many we kill."

"Those must be the creatures Paintface told me about," Aloy replied. "She said they got her daughter, but that your men saved her and her husband and son before the.. Halfmen… could get to them."

"Yes, that's all true. I suspect she told you other stuff that's flat out wrong. Woman's crazy. She makes a good Scout but it takes her husband and son to keep her under control.

"That's why I gave them the wayshelter to watch over, the three of 'em. Now her husband's dead and her son's leg is still in a pretty bad way."

"Wait," Aloy was shocked, "you mean that Bandit I killed was Paintface's _husband_? And the boy was her _son_?"

"Exactly."

"But she told me you were keeping them hostage somewhere in your camp. Was that story a lie?"

"Not to Paintface, no," Skulldriver replied as he reached for the jug of wine on the floor and topped off his cup. "To her, they were gone. We think the shock of what happened to her daughter was just too much for her. She wouldn't even talk to Bearman as if her were her husband. They lived separately, but the two fellows took care of Paintface, kept her out of trouble."

 _Something's really fishy here!_ Aloy thought. _Either Paintface really is crazy, or she's lying, or this Bandit is lying. I'm not sure how I get to the bottom of this!_

Skulldriver interrupted her musings. "It's late, you need your rest. We'll talk more in the morning. You shouldn't stay anywhere but here tonight. Use my bedroll – it isn't much, but it's safe, I promise you. Just don't roll around too much. Those rags you're wearing really do have a foul odor, and I may need that bed again soon! If you need a toilet, around the corner there's a bucket."

Aloy stood at Skulldriver arose from his chair.

"No, that's alright, I think I'm good till morning."

"Suit yerself. I'll be sleepin' right outside to make sure you're not bothered. Tomorrow we should be able to leave this dungeon and I'll show you around my camp."

And with that, the hulking Bandit leader lifted the flap and disappeared, leaving Aloy to ponder the fix she was in and think about how to get out of it. After, of course, a night's welcome sleep.


	8. Chapter 8: Treachery

"DAMMIT!"

It was like a roar, a throaty, guttural scream that jolted Aloy from her sleep. She'd been more tired than she thought, and sleep had come easily, but the shouting got her attention.

"HOW THE HELL?"

It was Skulldriver, that was certain. Aloy slowly arose from the bedroll that had made a better-than-expected sleeping arrangement. Lighting behind the hanging flap of animal hide didn't seem any different than when she fell asleep, so Aloy had no idea of the time. One thing had to be true, though: everyone in the Cradle had to be awake now. No one could sleep through the bellowing Bandit.

As she tried to straighten the shoddy Bandit clothing that hung clumsily over her frame, Aloy realized that maybe, perhaps, she should use that bucket… No, she decided she could wait just a bit longer. She straightened the scarf over her head, grabbed her pouch and weapons, and walked to the flap. Slowly, she pulled the flap back so she could peak at the events around her. Skulldriver was only feet away, his back to her, raising his arms high and swinging them down to his waist. Beyond were several of what appeared to be elite Bandit guards; beyond them, everyone else fought to escape up the single stairway.

"This MUST stop! Don't I have anyone competent enough to stop it?"

Skulldriver ceased his gyrations: the guards in front of him were all looking behind him, at the sleepy-eyed young woman emerging from the Bandit leader's private quarters. Skulldriver turned to face Aloy, and a menacing scowl and furrowed brows all seemed to soften just a bit.

Skulldriver stood straight, and Aloy suddenly realized not just how big he was, but how tall. He towered over Aloy, taller than any of the men and women standing behind him.

"Uh… your hair's showing," Skulldriver seemed to try to whisper, but with his raspy voice it sounded more like a growl. Aloy got the message, though, as she reached up to the front of the scarf and gave it a tug a bit more to the front of her head. Skulldriver nodded ever so slightly.

"What happened?" Aloy asked, sincerely concerned about whatever it was that had so upset her host. The scowl on his face returned immediately.

"What happened," Skulldriver began as he pivoted to face his Bandits once again, "was that these useless scum couldn't guard our orchard overnight, even after the rain stopped, and _someone_ sneaked into our camp and destroyed a bunch of our trees!"

"You didn't want anyone out in the Rad storm, did you?" Aloy asked.

"That only makes it worse – that was just a regular winter rain, not a Rad rain. My whole camp's so spooked that everyone goes running for shelter at the first sign of rain."

"Isn't that the best thing to do? It isn't worth taking a chance that your people all get radiation sickness, is it?"

"You're new here, so you don't understand: winter rains are not Rad rains, and anyway, we had advance notice that it was okay, but no one told me until this morning.

"Then my farmers come to tell me a couple dozen of my precious nut trees have been hacked to pieces!"

"That seems strange, doesn't it?" Aloy asked. "Why would someone risk their life just to chop down some trees?"

"You don't understand that, either," Skulldriver growled. "We are trying to grow our own food. It's getting harder and harder to send out raid parties – there's nothing but the Rad City south of here and desert to the east, and we've hit just about everybody we can up north. So we do a little pilfering and a little pillaging, but we don't get enough to stay alive that way. So we grow a lot of our own fruit and vegetables, we've got our own cattle and goats and chickens, but DAMMIT! I love those nuts!

"We keep getting' hit, every time we look the other way, we lose trees or grapevines, sometimes it's a cow or two. Someone's tryin' to tear us apart."

"So you've had this problem for a while?"

"Two years now. And I know who's doing it. We had some traitors who tried to force me out and take over the camp. We chased 'em out, and now they come back to torture us. Torture ME."

"Can't your Bandits just track them down? They must leave some kind of a trail."

"Nah, they're good at hiding their tracks. We try, we always send Scouts out after 'em as soon as we get a chance but no one's been able to find 'em."

"Maybe I can help."

"You know something about trees?"

"No," Aloy chuckled, "I can't help you recover your trees. Maybe I can hunt them down for you."

"Uh… we better go somewhere else to talk." Skulldriver glanced behind him at the group of Bandits, all of them listening as intently as they could to the conversation.

"Maybe we can start at the scene of the crime," Aloy suggested.

"Good idea. Come on." Skulldriver motioned for the band of Bandits to part so the two could walk between them and up the stairs. It would have made an amusing sight for anyone with a sense of humor (something for which Bandits were distinctly not known), as the hulking monster of a man and the relatively slight young woman walked up the stairs, out of the Cradle, and into the bright morning sunlight.

They walked along a wide trail to the left of the orchard. The trees were uncovered, the tarps that had covered them rolled up in a line to one side. Aloy admired the beauty and symmetry of the orchard: the trees had small silvery leaves, were all of about the same height, were in even rows that went on as far as she could see. There were six rows of trees, trails on both sides, and here and there someone was tending to a tree.

"Our grapevines are on top of the hill," Skulldriver said, nodding his head slightly to his left to indicate the steep hill that followed alongside the orchard. "We store water up there too, catch it in troughs and test it for Rads. If it's good, we funnel it into water tanks, and if it's too radiated we pour it down the hill on the other side."

Aloy could see the first signs of the treachery that had so upset the Bandit leader: in the distance, people were carefully picking up strewn tree limbs and leaves, moving them to a pile at the end of the trail.

"Okay, my fire-haired witch, do your best!" Skulldriver stopped and motioned to the broken tree trunks that poked up at the end of the line. It looked as if three or four rows of trees – each row six deep – had been torn asunder by something very strong. "Oh, and when you're finished, you're getting a bath and some new clothes."

"Alright," Aloy responded as she reached – as surreptitiously as she could, given that there was a monster of a man and perhaps ten other people around her – into her waist pouch to retrieve her Focus. She casually reached to her right temple, as if to brush away hair (hair that, of course, was not there), and touched the Focus to her right temple. The Focus stayed as if glued to her head; she tapped it and the Focus began emitting a faint green glow. A glow not missed by Skulldriver.

"That… that thing you just stuck to your head! I know what that is… it's a Focus! We have a bunch of 'em."

Aloy deactivated her Focus and removed it from her temple. Holding the Focus tightly in her hand, she turned to face Skulldriver. "You do? You have working Focuses?"

"Yeah, how do you think we get early warnings of the Rad storms? We've got Scouts to the north, what amounts to a little Bandit camp all its own, and some more on an island out in the Great Waters to our south. If any of 'em detects rain, they'll use a Focus to call my Chief Scientist and let him know. Then he sounds the alarm.

"Doesn't your Focus let you talk to other people?"

"Well, not on purpose, no," Aloy responded as she tried to process what the Bandit leader had revealed: _If these people have Focuses, can't they use them to identify tracks, spot enemies, find Machines… do all the things mine does? And do I tell this stranger the truth – that there once was a man who tapped into my Focus and used it to see what I saw, to talk to me?_ Aloy decided discretion was the best response for the moment. And a pretense of ignorance. "I don't use mine to talk to anyone, but it does help me find footprints and follow them."

Skulldriver looked incredulous. "No kidding! Ours don't do that, I don't think, they just let us talk over long distances. We found a box of 'em in the wreckage of our storm shelter, and it took a few years for my Chief Scientist to figure out how to use 'em. I guess, if you make it back alive, you'll want to talk with my Scientist."

Aloy was uncertain of her next move: reactivate her Focus and begin the search for the tree slayers, divulge more about the abilities of her Focus, or express her surprise that a Bandit camp even had someone with the title of "Chief Scientist." In all her travels, she'd never before come across anyone with that title. Definitely more to learn about this most unusual camp!

Deciding the best course was to follow up on her new errand, Aloy reattached the Focus on her temple, reactivated it, and looked around the area of broken trees. She discovered that there were actually a wealth of tracks to be followed, perhaps dozens, meandering through the fallen trees and off into the distance, up the side of the hill that lay before her. She gave a quick wave to Skulldriver and set about following the very clear trail of purple, glowing footprints.


	9. Chapter 9: The Traitor Camp

The climb up the hill was strenuous, as the slope continued to steepen the higher Aloy climbed. She had to grab the occasional plant or protruding rock to keep her balance, and soon she was looking for handholds up a small sheer precipice that appeared to take her to the top of the hill. Looking behind her, she realized she'd left the Bandit camp far behind, as there was no sign at all of life behind and below her. The handholds on the cliffside were easily identified, glowing a soft purple wherever hands and feet had been. She simply followed the path blazed by the marauders.

The sun shone almost directly overhead when she reached the apex of the hill. She looked about her: the scene would have been majestic if the hills and valley before her weren't so devoid of any signs of life. The good news, she acknowledged, was that, among the threats _not_ present were deadly Machines and enemy humans.

To her left was a taller peak, most likely the hill upon which Skulldriver's Bandits grew their grapes and collected their water. Ahead lay a narrow "V" shape notched between smaller hills, and there led the images of the tracks she'd been following. The people who made those tracks had taken little care in concealing them, as Aloy could see footprints even without her Focus, and scattered here and there were some sort of shell, presumably from the nuts off Skulldriver's trees, and rinds from assorted fruits. These people were clearly not concerned about anyone tracking them on this narrow, secluded path.

As Aloy continued to follow the tracks, she started to feel a bit uneasy. This area seemed _too_ quiet for her liking, and walking in a narrow valley made her vulnerable to attack from above. Just as she started to feel uneasy, her concerns were borne out: well-armed and well-armored men and women began to appear above her on both sides of the valley, all looking her way. She looked behind, and a small group was walking toward her in the valley. Activating her Focus, she saw more coming from the path ahead. She was trapped.

It was at this point that Aloy realized that, in her haste, she'd made two big tactical errors: she had chosen to walk in a narrow canyon instead of along one of the ridges, and she'd forgotten that she still carried her Shield Weave armor in a tight bundle slung over her shoulder. The armor could have been donned under the loose-fitting Bandit rags she wore, and it would have given her at least a decent chance of surviving the first arrow or two fired her way.

To her surprise, the first sound she heard was not the _twang_ of a bowstring, nor the sound of an arrow whistling toward her head: instead, it was a human voice. A non-threatening, rather soft, female voice, from one of the Bandits approaching her from the trail ahead.

"Why are you here?" the voice said as the party of a half-dozen stopped mere feet from her. "Are you from Skulldriver's camp?"

The woman who spoke was tall and slight of build, dressed in Bandit clothes that fit her as poorly as Aloy's rags fit her. The woman had long black hair, flowing in the breeze and not tied atop her head as most Bandits wore it – at least, Bandits back in Aloy's homeland. She did not appear to be ready to attack, though Aloy knew there were dozens, if not hundreds, of Bandits around her who might.

"No," Aloy replied, her lance held loosely at her side, "I'm from the Timberlands camp, north of here. We got overrun by Machines, and our camp was wiped out, and now I'm looking to join another band."

The woman did not reply at first. Instead, she turned to a man standing to her left and said something that Aloy couldn't make out. Then the woman said, "we've never heard of that camp. Where'd you say it was?"

Uh oh. Aloy was just quoting the erstwhile Bandit leader of the refugees from the Timberlands camp. She had no idea where it was. She tried to be vague.

"North of there. Maybe more northwest. You looking for a new recruit?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you're telling the truth. If it turns out you're really from Skulldriver's camp, we'll have to kill you."

"I see. Well, I saw his camp, but I'm not part of his gang. I thought some other members of my camp might've come through here."

"I told you, we've never heard of your camp. If you promise not to do something stupid, you can join us at our camp and rest up. We'll see what we do after that."

 _Whew!_ Aloy thought. _At least I'm not fighting for my life just yet!_

"Follow us," the woman said as she motioned at Aloy. The Bandits lining the hills above converged on them and formed an armed escort – or really, armed guards – as they continued to follow the path before them.

As they walked, Aloy quickened her pace a bit to catch up with the leader of the group, as the woman's long legs produced a larger stride. Aloy decided she'd take her chances with small talk.

"Tell me about this Skulldriver camp. Is that a friend or an enemy?"

"Skulldriver is the name of the leader of the camp. He's a mean, vindictive, son of a bitch – even for a Bandit – with absolutely no honor."

"Okay, so an enemy," Aloy tried to make light of the answer. "If you don't like this Skulldriver, why don't you just invade his camp and take him out?"

"His camp is huge. His people are blindly loyal. He's crazy. We'd all die and he'd still be alive. Good enough for you?"

"Good enough for me," Aloy replied. She had the feeling she'd done all the prying she dared for now.

After more than an hour's walk, as the narrow canyon widened and isolated trees dotted the sides, Aloy saw the remains of an ancient road, wreckage of transportation devices rotting in the sun. Partially collapsed buildings stood in a cluster; tarps were extended between them to create a decent-sized shelter from the hot (even in wintertime) sun. Small stands had been assembled from wood and scrap from wreckage and stood around the perimeter of the village, a guard stationed on each stand, bow at the ready.

As the core of the group approached the makeshift village, a young child came running from the shadows, to the leader, and gave her a hug. Aloy wasn't sure if it was a boy or a girl, but she guessed the child was no more than three or four. Long black hair suggested this was the leader's offspring. The leader stopped and gave the child a hug in return, then motioned for her entourage to enter the nearest building. She turned and waved to Aloy, motioning for her to do the same.

The spartan, weathered exterior of the building gave no hint of what awaited them in the interior: a large single room, pieces of animal hide stretched against two walls – presumably to block windows, but also bearing intricate paintings of blues and greens and reds that provided color to the plain white walls; in the far corner, a small woodburning stove under an open roof; around the stove, several hidebound chairs that looked quite comfortable. With the windows covered, the room would have been dark save for burning torches mounted to three walls. A table against the wall to the left was stacked with bowls of fruit and dried meats, some sort of vegetables, and what Aloy surmised were nuts from Skulldriver's trees.

The leader of the group paused to lean her lance in a near corner, quietly waving for her company and Aloy to follow her lead. Five adults, two men and three women, had entered the room with them. The leader walked by the food-laden table and picked up a fresh apple, then sat in the chair to the left of the semicircle facing the stove. She gave the apple to the child who stood beside her, then she spoke to Aloy.

"Please, won't you have some food? It's not often we have such a trove to indulge. I can offer you a flagon of water if you wish, as well, thanks to last night's rain."

"Thank you," Aloy nodded, "but I'm not really hungry. I will accept that water, though. If…"

"If?" the woman replied. "If what?"

"If you're sure it's not contaminated with Rads," Aloy replied. She was interested in seeing how this woman responded: how much did she know about the rains?

"Everyone knows rain in wintertime is safe to drink," the woman responded. "Now, while one of my assistants fetches you a drink, won't you sit down?"

Aloy walked to the chair farthest from the woman, but the woman waved at her. "No, not there, sit next to me. I have a feeling we have some things to discuss."

Aloy obeyed, moving to the chair to the woman's right.

The woman seemed intent on watching the child devour the apple. While looking down, she said, "I know where you come from. You come from Skulldriver's Camp." She looked up at Aloy. "Now you will tell me why you're here."

"What makes you think I came from that person's camp?"

"You were walking in a canyon that starts above the camp, and there's really no other way to get into that canyon. We monitor it full time."

"Alright, I guess it's time to be honest. If you were worried about me you'd have done something by now."

"Yes, to be honest. I'm Cass – that's short for Cassandra – and these good folk help me keep this motley crew together." Cass motioned to the women and men still standing behind them, and two of the women took to open chairs as the others remained standing. A young man entered the room from the open doorway, a clay flagon in one hand and a small cup in the other. He handed the cup to Aloy, filled it from the flagon, then set the flagon on the floor beside her, and left.

After a long gulp of water that almost emptied the cup, Aloy spoke again. "Let's say I did come from Skulldriver's camp. What if I told you I'm not one of his Bandits?"

"I was fairly certain of that already," Cass replied.

Aloy watched Cass carefully: she seemed older than Aloy had originally thought, her long black hair hiding half her face. Her eyes seemed dark but very sad, as if she'd lived a hard life. Her shoulders were hunched slightly. Wrinkles across her cheeks made her skin look tough and leathery. But the woman carried a slight smile that suggested the sorrow was hidden behind a thinly veiled mask.

"What gave me away?" Aloy asked.

"Well, for one, you didn't run or fight when the soldiers showed up. Most of Skulldriver's minions are too afraid to listen to reason."

"Sounds like you've dealt with a few of them."

"Considering I once was one of them, yes. And generally, if we find anyone walking the canyon, they don't return to their camp."

"Hmmm… that sounds threatening."

"What?... Oh no, not at all! It's just that if we capture any of his scouts, they either run and we catch them and kill them, or fight to the death, or they end up joining our ranks. Just about everyone here was once a loyal Bandit. Until they got here and learned the truth, learned what we represent."

"Which is?..."

"We're not Bandits. This is not a Bandit camp."

"Really? You sneak into Skulldriver's camp during a rainstorm and destroy part of his orchard? That sounds like something Bandits might do."

"Hacking down those trees was just a distraction. I know it annoys Skulldriver, and no one's going to complain to him that part of our group raided his food stores while we were at it. So, yes, I guess we're petty thieves. And I admit it, I personally enjoy pestering that monster, and the rest of my village supports me.

"But we're building a village, not a Bandit camp. We don't raid anyone – except Skulldriver – and we actually have trades in place with some locals who walk the trails to the east. We're about a hundred people, counting children, basically all of them former Bandits for Skulldriver, or their children, born in this village. Once we're able to grow our own food, we might stop raiding Skulldriver – maybe – because I enjoy bothering that man and maybe at some point he'll step down, then someone with some compassion can take over."

"Compassion? From a Bandit leader?" Aloy was more than a bit surprised.

"You must realize," Cass replied very calmly, "that camp is not really a Bandit camp, either. Since Skulldriver became the leader, he's worked hard to assemble a core of Bandits, and to some degree, he's had to: he has a lot of mouths to feed, and the place was an easy target for thieves. But before he took over, the camp was peaceful and surviving, if not thriving. He's allowed it to run down as he has one goal in life: to be in control of The Bunker."

"The Bunker? Why does he want it?"

"He was born there. His family worked in the science wing when a quake hit and part of the Bunker collapsed. The military rulers chose to seal off the wing instead of trying to rescue the survivors."

"How did he get away? And how old was he?"

"He says that he was four when the quake hit. Many of the scientists and assistants survived the quake. Anyone not too badly hurt climbed out of the wreckage and assembled at the main entryway to The Bunker. But no matter how much noise they made, the door was kept locked.

"After many hours – some say days – the survivors moved on. There were reportedly several storms – most likely Rad storms – during those days, and certainly many of the banished Bunker residents became ill from the Rads."

"So…" Aloy wondered just how far she should push to find out what happened – and whether it mattered that she knew. "Is that how Skulldriver got his… affliction?"

"Oh, no. The scientists used everything they carried from the wreckage of the Bunker to protect their children. Once they gave up on getting back into The Bunker, the scientists moved on and set up a peaceful village. The village now known as Skulldriver Camp."

"Okay, that explains a lot… I think," Aloy replied. "So what happened to Skulldriver, how did he get his… wounds?"

"Well, for one, those are not Rad marks across his skull. They are Machine scars. Skulldriver – he wasn't called that at the time – got those wounds from a herd of Machines that swept through the village just months ago, at the time of The Great Corruption. Machines that had kept their distance suddenly turned on humans, attacking with no warning, and our village was an easy target. Skulldriver led a group that fought off the Machines, and most of them died, but Skulldriver survived. Barely. He thinks the officers in The Bunker sent the Machines to destroy the village."

Aloy could see that this woman was getting emotional as she recalled the events. As Aloy considered the best follow-up question, a scream sounded from somewhere outside the building. It sounded like a child's scream.

Cass and her companions jumped to their feet, gathered their weapons, and ran from the building. Aloy followed, her lance at the ready.

It was past sunset already, as evidenced by long shadows on the distant hills to the east. There was a commotion in that direction, with women, men, and children emerging from the cluster of closely-spaced shacks and gathering at the edge of the village. Cass pushed her way through the crowd and Aloy followed.

"What happened?" Cass addressed the group of adults standing outside the main crowd. One of them pointed to a grove of trees, downhill from the village and obscured by waning daylight. There, Aloy could see a group of Machines milling about; two or three appeared to be agitated by something in or near a single small tree, barren of leaves and rocking about as a Machine rammed into it.

"It's Pol – she went out by herself and a herd of Rammers chased her! She's stuck in that tree!"

Aloy touched the Focus at her temple, and evening sky lit up with information: in the tree was a human, ramming the tree was a Charger, and seven or eight more were standing nearby watching. The tree shuddered mightily with every impact, and Aloy knew either the tree or the young girl would soon give way.

Cass raised her lance. "Let's go, we've got to get those Rammers away from Pol!"

Aloy lowered her lance in front of Cass to stop her. "Wait. Those Machines can get pretty nasty if you just go running down there. I have an idea. Give me five minutes and I'll see if I can stop them."

Cass looked concerned, and Aloy knew that the leader of this village had little reason to place her faith in a total stranger. Still, Aloy had been in similar situations many times before, so she waited for Cass to compose herself.

"I promise," Aloy said, "that girl will not be harmed if I can help it. If I get into trouble I'll call for you and you come running, but let me see what I can do first, alright?"

"Well…" Cass looked at her guards, now in a tight bunch behind her: they looked apprehensive about attacking a group of Machines out in the open. Cass nodded. "Not five minutes. Two minutes. Then we join you."

"Fair enough," Aloy said as she turned and ran full-speed, not directly at the herd of Chargers, but rather obliquely, toward the edge of the small grove of trees. She wanted to glance back to see if Cass stayed behind, but she knew Cass might get worried and follow her.

It took only seconds for Aloy to reach the first tree, its trunk barely wide enough for her to hide behind. An alert Charger stood a few steps away, intently watching the commotion nearby. Aloy let out a weak whistle, just loud enough for the Charger alone to hear, and readied her lance. Sure enough, the curious Machine strolled slowly in the direction of the sound, and toward Aloy, lance straight out, behind the tree.

When the Charger reached the tree, Aloy knew it had spotted her, but before the Machine could make a move, Aloy jabbed at it with the blunt end of her lance. She contacted the Machine in its haunch, just as it was rearing to attack her. She held the lance firmly against the Machine, forcing solid contact with a device attached by wire to the end. The device emitted a signal, a kind of code, into the operating system of the Machine, loading new instructions into its core, instructions that altered the Machine from an enemy of humans to a friend. After several seconds, as the Machine continued to attempt to break free, Aloy lowered he lance, and the Machine calmly stood still before her, no longer a threat.

Between the scattered trees and patches of scrub brush, Aloy was able to sneak up on Charger after Charger, reprogramming each of them to become friendly to Humans. Finally, there was only the single hostile Machine, still ramming the tree, the young girl in the tree holding on with arms and legs wrapped about a low branch. Aloy let out a "Hey!" in the direction of the hostile Charger. It stopped its assault and turned to face her. She could tell that the Machine was changing targets, from the girl in the tree to the woman before it, and it reared onto its hind legs, shook its mighty curved horns, and prepared to rush at her.

Before the hostile Charger could reach Aloy, the three closest overridden Chargers launched a counterattack. Aloy waited as the three-on-one onslaught quickly destroyed the single hostile, and the attackers calmly returned to milling about, looking docile and friendly.

Aloy walked toward the tree where the young girl still held on for dear life, pausing briefly to pilfer valuable items from the carcass of the downed Charger: a length of wire, several metal shards that served as currency in her homeland, a lens from the Machine's head. Even in the low light, Aloy could see that the girl was terrified, scraped and scratched, her shirt and pants torn from the bark of the tree.

"You can come down now," Aloy said to the girl, extending a hand up to her. "These Machines won't hurt you anymore."

"I… I'm afraid!" the girl stuttered. "And I'm going to be in trouble for leaving home!"

"Trust me," Aloy replied. "I'll talk to your family for you. I think they'll be relieved you're okay. Come on, we'll catch a ride back."

The girl relaxed her deathgrip on the tree and almost fell to the ground. Aloy caught her and helped her stand.

"How long were you up there?" Aloy asked as she smoothed the girl's tattered clothing and checked for injuries. The girl seemed to be relatively unharmed.

"I don't know," the girl was almost crying as she spoke, "I was looking for flowers. Sometimes we get tiny little yellow flowers right after a rain and we don't see flowers that much around here, but then those Rammers chased me and I climbed this tree and…"

"Rammers?" Aloy was unfamiliar with the name. "You mean Chargers?"

"Those things," the girl said as she pointed at the nearest Charger, slinking behind Aloy to hide from the docile Machine.

"Okay," Aloy replied, "where I come from we call them Chargers, but I guess they do ram things, don't they?"

The girl held onto Aloy's arm, still crying.

"But you know what?" Aloy said as she turned toward the nearest Charger and began to walk slowly towards it. "Once these things are… well, once they're no longer a threat… sometimes, you can ride them. Come on, I'll show you!"

The girl pulled Aloy's arm, trying to stop her from approaching the Machine. But Aloy continued to walk slowly towards it.

"Now you can't do this normally, alright? It takes a special… well, a device… to make these Machines so friendly. So don't ever, ever try this yourself. But we're going to ride one!"

With that, Aloy hopped onto the back of the Charger and extended her arm to the girl. The Charger simply stood, head forward, unconcerned about the human atop its back.

The girl wanted to run but curiosity got the better of her. She reached for Aloy's open hand and allowed herself to be pulled up onto the huge Machine. She could barely straddle the Machine's broad back, so Aloy placed her left arm around the girl and tapped the end of her lance to the Machine's haunch with her right arm. The Machine began walking slowly, and Aloy jabbed at its side with a boot to direct it toward the village, where a crowd of astonished, awestricken – and for the most part, frightened – group of villagers waited for them.

The nearest cluster of villagers recoiled as the Charger strode to a stop in front of Cass and her guards. Cass showed an expression of concern mixed with relief. Aloy couldn't tell if the concern was for the girl, for the Charger, or for what might happen next. But she was sure the relief was for the safe return of the girl.

A young man and woman, hand in hand, pushed through the crowd. Their clothes were plain, solid dark colors (as well as Aloy could tell in the impending dark), simple slacks and shirts. The couple hurried toward Aloy and the Charger, but they froze as the Machine turned its head toward them. "Mama! Papa!" the girl called out. "Look at me! I'm riding a Machine!"

"Get down from there, Pol!" her father answered as he released the woman's hand and walked up beside the Charger.

Aloy could tell that Pol was smiling, beaming brightly as she patted the Machine atop its broad metallic head, softly whispering "good Rammy!" She leaned forward and planted a kiss on the Machine's head, then, realizing what she'd done, sat up to see if anyone had seen her. Of course, the entire village had.

Aloy reached about Pol's waist and helped her swing her right leg over the Machine's head. Pol, still smiling and laughing, hit the ground and jumped into her father's arms. The man scooped her up, turned toward his companion, and they walked away toward the buildings.

"How did you do that?" asked Cassandra as Aloy dismounted from the Machine. "Those things are deathly enemies of humans."

"I have a… a device," Aloy began, unsure not only of how much to tell this stranger, but of how much she herself really knew about the device attached to her lance. "Chargers – you call them Rammers – are programmed with instructions to do their job and to kill humans. I'm able to… well, I can override their programs to make them friendly to humans who are friendly to them."

"What happens when you and your… device… aren't around anymore?"

"Don't provoke them and they won't attack you, ever. In fact, that herd will actually guard you and your people if you leave them alone. They'll attack hostile humans and hostile Machines that come too close to them."

"Well, okay," Cass soundly, rather skeptically. "I wouldn't believe you if this thing weren't standing here, looking downright homie."

"Just tell your villagers to steer clear, or at least don't attack the herd, and don't let anyone try to ride them – Machines that I've overridden let me ride them, but that's it."

"You are a very peculiar person… um… I don't know your name."

Aloy pondered for just a moment. _Too soon – and too risky – to use my real name_ , she thought. _I guess I'll keep up the Bandit act a little longer_.

"Call me Red," Aloy answered finally.

"Alright. Red. Let's go back into the Communal Room. We clearly have a lot more to talk about."

As the two walked past a group of villagers, Aloy heard one of them mutter: "Witch."

"What did you say?" Aloy stopped to face in the direction of the speaker. "Do you want to say something to me?"

An elderly woman, shriveled and head covered with a light-colored shawl, stepped forward from the shadows and spoke. "I said you're a witch. You're a demon, here to turn the Machines against us. You're going to destroy us all!"

Aloy started to answer, but Cass spoke first.

"Now Harlie, you know that's not true. First, witches don't exist, and second, this woman is as human as you or me. Don't start spreading any of your wild tales about Red, you hear?"

The woman made a soft growling noise. "I don't care what you think. No one can do what _she_ did unless they're cursed! And cursed demons mean us no good."

"Harlie, I told you before, we're scientists, and scientists don't believe in your tall tales. I don't want to hear anything like that out of you again as long as Red is our guest, is that understood?"

"Bah!" the woman gave an offhand motion as if to dismiss them, then turned and walked in the direction of the village.

"What was that about?" Aloy asked as Cass led the way back toward the furthest building.

"She's quite old, is Harlie, and she's set in her superstitious ways. She wandered into our camp a few months ago, sick and hungry. We nursed her back to health – at least physically. I'm not so sure about her mentally.

"Don't worry about what she called you. She's accused just about every person in this village of some sort of witchcraft since she's been here. We put up with her because basically she's harmless."

"If you say so," Aloy replied as the two women entered the torchlit single-room building, followed by Cass's companions.

"Have a seat," Cass waved at the chair where Aloy had sat earlier. "We'll arrange for a dinner, then we can start over getting to know one another."


	10. Chapter 10 Truths Revealed

"Alright, let's be honest with one another, shall we?" Cass said. "I don't know how you tamed those Machines, and I still think you were sent here by Skulldriver, but one thing is clear: you are _not_ part of his camp."

"I told you that," Aloy interjected.

"But I also don't know whether you are a friend or a threat, so you must tell me three things… Who are you really, where are you from, and why did Skulldriver send you here?"

"Well, those first two topics are… complicated. Let me address the third topic first."

"That's fair, I guess. Go on." Cass relaxed into her chair, slumped to one side, and swung one leg over the other. She wore a long skirt that pulled up slightly as she did so, and in the torchlight, Aloy noted that the woman's bare leg looked discolored and scarred. She had suffered some malady in her past.

"I told Skulldriver that I would hunt down the tree attackers. We didn't discuss what I'd do when I found them… you… but just that I would find them."

"Okay, you found us. Now what?"

"Actually, I haven't figured that out myself. I guess I was expecting a gang of cutthroat Bandits who'd put up a fight so I'd have to kill them. Then I could give Skulldriver the good news."

Cass peered at Aloy and raised an eyebrow. "And now that you know? Are we about to die?"

"Of course not," Aloy responded rather abruptly. She was not ready for a tussle with this group. "But it's obvious that you and your village are struggling to survive. You've got a talent for leadership, and these people are loyal and motivated. Why don't you make an offer to Skulldriver? You could become a part of his village, but keep your independence, and help his village grow."

"No! We will not bow to that tyrant again!" Cass was visibly upset. "No one here wants to go back to living under that man's rule!"

"What if I negotiate for you? Skulldriver seemed friendly enough to me, and he obviously trusted me to carry out justice for him. What if I return and work out a deal?"

"There can be no deal with that man," Cass replied as she uncrossed her legs and sat forward in her chair. "Jhonnson! Jhonnson, come in here!"

Aloy turned toward the open doorway to see Cass's child enter the room. The child shyly walked between them and stood next to Cass, head lowered as he stared at some invisible object on the floor.

"Let me show you one example of Skulldriver's temper." Cass raised a leg of the child's deerskin pants to reveal a long vertical scar running from the child's ankle to just below the knee. "This is from one of Skulldriver's drunken rages, when he threw our own son out of our house. Jhonnson caught his leg on a rock. We thought it might be too infected to save.

"That is just one reason I will not go back!"

"Wait," Aloy said, "you said 'our' son and 'our' house; were you and Skulldriver married?"

"If you mean betrothed by some religious ritual, no. But we lived together for almost three years."

 _Well, that certainly explains the animosity_ , Aloy thought.

"Skulldriver's real name is Jhonn. This is his son, Jhonnson. The two of us packed up and moved out of the village – it was known as Gorman back then – just after the Great Corruption, when Jhonn got his scars and… changed.

"I knew it was coming. I knew before the Corruption that we had to leave. Jhonn was wildly jealous. He accused me of sneaking out to be with other men… and women. He tied my legs together with leather and soaked the leather in water until it cut and tore my skin. He tried to rip the hair out of my head with his bare hands. He is a cruel and vicious man, and if I ever see him again it will be when he's dead."

Cass took a deep breath and stared at the floor before looking up at her son. "Alright, Jhonnson, you may go now. It's time for bed."

"Goodnight, mama," the boy said in a low whisper. Cass leaned forward and gave her son a kiss on the forehead.

"Say goodnight to our special guest, too. This is Red." Jhonnson looked shyly at Aloy, whispered "Goodnight Red," and ran out of the building.

"Goodnight to you too, Jhonnson," Aloy called after the boy.

Cass seemed to visibly try to shake off the memories when she sat up in her chair, turned to look at the handful of people still standing in the back of the room, and said, "It's getting a little chilly in here, don't you think? We can afford to have a fire in our stove tonight – it so happens that we have a few fresh pieces of wood, taken from trees in a neighbor's orchard. Will one of you fetch an armload and prep the fire? Then we really must get some dinner for our guest."

With that the entire party left the room, and Aloy and Cass were alone.

"Soon you're going to return to Skulldriver," Cass said, "and tell him whatever you wish. You couldn't find us, or you made sure we're all dead, or we chased you out of this valley, I don't care what you say, as long as you don't tell the truth: that we have established our own village and we're doing as well as we possibly can."

"I don't know," Aloy managed a smile, "the truth sounds the most unbelievable. If Jhonn's as bad as you say, that's probably the one outcome he'd least likely accept."

"Please," Cass replied, solemnly, "don't call that man 'Jhonn.' If you let it slip when you talk to him, he'll know I told you about him. He wants to be known as Skulldriver."

"No problem," Aloy replied.

Voices could be heard outside the building. Aloy turned to see a man and a woman enter; the man carried two large bowls, the woman an armload of tree limbs with the bark stripped away. The man handed one bowl to Cass and the other to Aloy, and the woman dropped the load of wood next to the stove, opened the door in the stove's belly, and set up starter and kindling for a fire.

Aloy held the bowl high so the light from a torch lit its contents. It appeared to be a very thick soup of some sort. Cass noticed Aloy's curiosity.

"This is Wild Grass Soup," Cass explained. "We have farmers who have managed to cultivate a wild grass. It produces seeds that are very rich in nutrients. Every Spring we plant a field of the seeds and we harvest till Fall. We dry a supply of the seeds, along with the leaves from the plants, and we eat them over the Winter. We have a storage shed filled with them. Soak the seeds in water for a few hours, add the leaves, some spices and flavorings, boil them together, and we have dinner for the entire village. Try it!"

Aloy used the wooden spoon stuck into the soup to scoop a small bite. Steam rose from the lump of wild grass in her spoon. She took a bite, and was pleasantly surprised at the fragrant flavors. The grass seeds were a bit chewy but not objectionably so.

They ate in silence as the fire in the stove provided meager warmth and light. The man and woman who had served them were long gone.

Aloy was surprised at how hungry she felt. When the solid contents of the soup were eaten, she raised the bowl to her lips and drank the last remaining bit of broth. Cass watched, chuckled, and did the same.

"I gather you liked it?" Cass asked. "That was a double serving, you know. A couple of the villagers took reduced rations to share that with you."

Aloy looked down at her empty bowl and back up at Cass. "Oh no! They shouldn't have! I don't want anyone to suffer because of me. If I'd known…"

"Don't worry, don't worry," Cass reassured her. "They were Pol's parents – they wanted to thank you for saving Pol from those Machines – and I suspect Pol is still so excited about her adventure today that she hasn't even touched her own food."

"If I don't get to meet them, please thank them for me," Aloy said.

"Of course," Cass replied.

"You know, you could make this go farther with some venison or rabbit meat. And it would be even more nutritious."

"We don't eat meat," Cass explained. "Wildlife is scarce in this region, and besides, we have no desire to kill helpless animals. We have food sources that provide everything we need without hunting."

This was a new concept to Aloy: meat had been a staple of her diet and her lifestyle as long as she could remember, from hunting goats and boars with her foster father, Rost, to roasting duck or drying venison to store in her food pouch, to catching fresh salmon or trout and cooking them over an open flame. To consciously choose to live without consuming meat – this was a novel idea. She was certain that no one in her homeland – The Savage East – would ever choose to voluntarily avoid meat. She had even heard rumors of tribes in the fringes of The Savage East that lived on meat carved from their enemies: members of other tribes.

Over the past year or so, Aloy had seen more than her share of killing. Bandits, crazed zealots, thieves and murderers, would-be tyrants… she'd been personally responsible for many of those deaths, easily into the hundreds, whether protecting those who could not protect themselves or eliminating serious threats to whole civilizations. But she was not fond of killing. Perhaps it was just maturity, perhaps acknowledgement that eliminating one's enemies does not assure peace for one's friends; whatever it was, she had never gotten the taste for it. The concept of living off the earth without killing its wildlife seemed especially intriguing for her. Aloy made a mental note to try to learn more about this meatless diet.

Cass interrupted Aloy's musings.

"You've answered one question, so let's consider another… Who are you?"

Aloy thought for a moment. _Where do I begin? Do I tell her the whole story… from my childhood in The Embrace to my showdown with the world threat known as Hades? My origins, not from the natural union between a woman and a man, but from the creation of an advanced artificial intelligence using the DNA of a woman dead almost a millennium? My dealings with the crazed self-anointed Ruler of the World?_

"You know, it's easy to see why you're called Red," Cass commented, "your red roots are showing."

Aloy reached for the scarf still tied over most of her freshly-cropped hair. She lightly rubbed her hands on the exposed clumps of hair, then looked at her palms and realized that there were only wisps of lampblack. _The rain! It must have washed away the coloring! How long has my red hair been showing?_

She decided that she would start with the obvious. She reached up and pulled the scarf off her head. Cass emitted what sounded like a coo, or an perhaps expression of admiration.

"Your hair – what remains of it, anyway – is really a mess!" Cass observed. "Did you cut it yourself?"

"No," Aloy used her right hand to rub the uneven tufts of hair on the top and side of her head. She could tell that very little of her flowing flame-colored hair remained. "It was cut for me. In total darkness. To hide it from Skulldriver and his Bandits."

"Well, if it's any consolation to you, there are still splotches of hair, but there are other spots where your head almost appears shaven. You won't have much of a head of hair for a few months. So why was your hair cut like that? Certainly I've never seen anyone with such red hair, but so what? What did you fear?"

"I wondered the same thing when one of Skulldriver's scouts chose to hack it off. And maybe Skulldriver's henchmen didn't know who I was, but Skulldriver recognized me as soon as he saw me."

"Recognized you? From that red hair, or from something else?"

"I think my reputation preceded me."

"Your reputation. For what? Taming Machines? Bad haircuts?"

"Maybe you didn't hear about it, but there was some crazy woman north of here who thought she could rule the world."

"We heard rumors and stories from traveling merchants about such a woman. But we didn't hear what happened to her. Since nothing's changed for us, we assumed someone put an end to her."

"Yes. Me."

"You? You singlehandedly knocked off a self-appointed dictator?"

"Not singlehandedly, no. I had lots of help. But she wanted me to be her… a surrogate mother, and maybe even to rule once she died. But thousands of people were hurting because of her, so I… we… got rid of her."

"You know, I'd consider you to be a lunatic if I hadn't seen you tame Machines all by yourself. And clearly Skulldriver sees something in you since he set you free and sent you to find me. If I weren't a student of science, I'd start to think that maybe that hag Harlie is right – you are a witch."

"No, not a witch. I've been lucky enough to meet other people of science, and you might say I have science in my blood, so I've learned ways do things that only look like magic."

"Now I'm more curious than ever to know – where did you come from?"

Aloy was feeling more comfortable with this woman. She was finding herself not only willing to speak the truth about her life, but almost compelled to do so. _Was there something in that soup?_ she pondered. _Or is it just the chance to be myself?_

Whatever the reason, Aloy proceeded to tell the complete truth about how she came to be born… _created_ … by an intelligence that imbued in her the DNA of a brilliant scientist, and how she defeated the code known as Hades that intended to eliminate all life on Earth. There were tears in her eyes as she spoke of her mentor Rost, an outcast from his own tribe who raised her from birth and died saving her. She felt homesick when she spoke of her friends back home, those who bravely fought by her side, some of them with their lives, to defeat the Great Corruption.

When Aloy paused, she was conscious of the amount of time she'd been talking, and she was staring at the flames dancing in the belly of the wood-burning stove. Cass had been eerily silent the entire time. Aloy was almost afraid to look at Cass, concerned that this stranger might have judged her totally insane.

The crackling from the wet, sap-laden sticks burning in the stove sounded deafening in the silence. It felt like an eternity before Cass finally spoke.

"So you're the one."

"I'm one, but I'm not sure I'm 'the' one," Aloy replied, relieved that Cass did not appear to doubt her story. "My… mother… was a scientist who specialized in Robotics and Artificial Intelligence. She founded a 'firm' – that's like a village but it focused on science – called Miriam Technologies, to try to make her world better."

"Miriam?" Cass's voice rose as she sat up in her chair. "That's a familiar name. Jhonn told me stories of some ghost he and other residents of The Bunker got to see. He didn't remember much about the ghost, but apparently she was worshipped as a god, and the leaders believed she would return to save them all someday. Jhonn said her name was Miriam."

"I saw that 'ghost' too," Aloy calmly explained, "but she's no god, she's just a hologram – a sort of projected image. That image was Dr. Elisabet Sobeck, wearing a lab coat with her firm's name – MIRIAM – on the front. Apparently sometime in the past, someone in The Bunker interpreted the image as a message from a god. But I guarantee you, she's not returning. Unless I impersonate her. Once I get my hair back."

"Stories of your victory over the Great Corruption have made it here to the West, so we heard that some girl stopped it. But that's all I knew."

"Pretty close to what happened, I guess," Aloy replied, "except I'm not really a girl – I'm a woman – and I had lots of help."

"Oh please, I didn't mean any offense by calling you a 'girl!'" Cass sounded embarrassed. "That's just what we heard. You're certainly not 'some girl,' that much is clear."

"You know," Aloy confessed, "I've never told my life's story before. It actually feels good to talk about it, and especially to know that you aren't having me thrown in prison. Thank you, Cass."

"I admit, parts of your story sounded farfetched, but taken in whole, it's not impossible to believe. For all you've been through, I find it amazing that you've kept your sanity, Red …"

"It's Aloy," Aloy interjected. "My name is Aloy."

"It's an honor to know you, Aloy," Cass responded. "I feel humbled in your presence, and I feel downright embarrassed that I came so close to having my guards attack you when you first showed up. I guess my guards would be dead now, wouldn't they?"

"Hard to say for sure," Aloy chuckled, "there were a lot of them. But I've been in some sticky situations before and I haven't met my end yet."

Cass laughed, then stood and stretched. "Goodness, it's late! You must be exhausted, Aloy. We need to find you a place to bed for the night."

"I'm good with what I brought," Aloy replied, as she reached beside her chair and lifted the bundle of weapons, ammo, and supplies, all neatly bound in her thick Banuk fur wrap. "This keeps me warm even in the snow, so I'll just use it."

"Alright, but I thought, perhaps…" Cass paused and sat forward on the edge of her chair, looking directly into Aloy's eyes. "…Perhaps… after you've washed up a bit and we've burned those filthy clothes… you would consider sharing my bed."

"I… think I understand your invitation," Aloy replied, as she privately relished the idea of dumping the smelly Bandit regalia she still wore, "and I find myself having very strong feelings for you. But if I can, I think for now I'd like to take you up on that bath offer. I have a change of clothes I can wear. Are you alright with that?"

Cass reached her right hand and placed it on Aloy's arm. "My dear, I am honored and blessed to have you as my guest in my village. You may have whatever you wish. And if you should change your mind, my offer to share my home will remain open."

"Thank you," Aloy replied.

"Now, let me get you a bowl of water and a cloth for washing. I'm afraid we don't have enough water for a formal bath, but I'll toss a few more sticks in the fire and warm the water on the stove. You may wash and change and sleep in this room. You'll be safe here."

"That sounds wonderful," Aloy said as Cass arose from her chair. Aloy stood as well and waited until Cass walked from the room before unrolling her Banuk wrap. In the middle of the wrap, in a disheveled pile, lay her Shield-Weaver armor. She opened the pieces of lightweight clothing and lay them on the chair. _I'm taking a chance wearing this_ , she thought as she attempted to shake the wrinkles from the armor, _people are going to know I don't belong. But I'm going to feel a lot better, especially after I get rid of these disgusting Bandit clothes!_

Cass returned to the room carrying a bowl, similar in size and shape to the soup bowl, and a small piece of fabric. She placed the bowl atop the woodburning stove, opened the stove, and carefully lay the remaining half-dozen pieces of wood atop the glowing embers. Flames immediately sprang from the sappy wood; Cass closed the stove door and turned her attention back to Aloy. She glanced more than once at the unusual outerwear adorning the chair, and at the assortment of weapons and pouches now lying about on the floor at Aloy's feet.

"The water should get hot pretty fast," Cass said, clearly trying to ignore the odd variety of equipment before her. "You're welcome to sleep in this building. The fire will give you a little warmth and light, at least long enough to wash and change, but we're going to extinguish the wall torches for the evening. There's no need for guards outside the door – you're perfectly safe here, and if you should decide it's time for you to leave, no one will try to stop you.

"I hope you'll stay until morning, though. Good night," Cass said as she strode toward the open door on the far side of the small room. As she pulled back the hide curtain that sheltered the room, she stopped, muttered, "Oh no," and stepped back into the room. Behind her was the old woman Harlie, walking with benefit of a wooden cane, slowly entering the room.

"I know it's late, but I have a way to prove to you that this woman is a witch!" Harlie said with a crackling voice as she pushed her way past Cass and toward Aloy, now standing over her strewn gear.

Harlie glanced only briefly at the weapons, clothing, and pouches on the floor. From a handbag attached around her waist, she produced a small, black, rectangular object and waved it at Aloy, almost under her nose, as if to taunt her with it.

"This," Harlie cackled, "this will prove it! Do you know what this is, girl?"

Aloy tried to identify the object in the woman's hand as it continued to move about. In the low light, Aloy suspected the object was a holo disk, perhaps a full player, but the woman didn't stop waving it long enough to be sure. So Aloy spoke up.

"No, you keep waving it like it's a flag. Maybe if you'd let me hold it… or at least keep it still for a moment?"

Harlie seemed unaffected by the request. But as she waved the object over her left shoulder, Cass, who was standing behind her, snatched it out of her hand. Cass looked at one side of the object, turned it over, looked at the edges. As far as Aloy could see, the object bore no markings whatsoever. But she was now certain it was a holoplayer.

Harlie had barely flinched when Cass extracted the player from her hand. She continued to stare at Aloy, and then said, "I was given this by a shaman many years ago. He claimed that it held the secrets of the earth, if only I could find a way to view them. Since you are a witch, I know you can see what's in this box, and great mysteries will be solved!"

"And if I can't?" Aloy asked as Cass handed the holoplayer to her.

"Then you are still a witch, an evil witch, intent on hiding the truth from us!"

"So let me get this straight," Aloy said as she examined the box: there were no markings, but the player looked more or less intact. _If there is a holo recording inside, it might be recoverable_. She was tempted to use her Focus to check the status of the player, but she decided to hold off, for the moment at least. "If I can see what's in this box, it proves I'm a witch, and if it I can't it proves I'm a witch? How do I prove I'm not?"

"You are a witch, girl, we all saw how you enchanted those Machines! Now reveal the secrets of this box!"

Aloy was torn about what to do next: _Do I see if I can read the holo, even try to project the holo image with my Focus? It seems these people don't know anything about Focuses, so I'll have to explain it. But if I do nothing, this woman is going to make my time here unpleasant_.

Aloy looked at Cass. Cass had been watching the exchange with curiosity, but, Aloy sensed, with a bit of empathy as well. Aloy was certain that, if she refused to do anything, Cass would support her. But Aloy also felt an affinity for this woman, a desire to be honest and forthright, more so than she'd felt in a long time, if ever. She decided to continue the night of truths revealed.

Aloy turned her head to the left, so that both Cass and Harlie could see the Focus attached to her head, near her right temple. "Do you see this? This device is called a Focus."

"Yes, I've seen those before," Cass replied, "Skulldriver is able to use one to communicate with his scientists."

"That's one use for them," Aloy explained, "though mine seems to have much more power than any of the ones Skulldriver uses. Mine can scan items like this box – it's a holoplayer – and determine if any of the holo's contents can be restored."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cass replied, "but I'll take your word for it…"

"I know!" Harlie interjected. "The shaman said something about "holy visions" when he gave it to me. He said I'd need to focus to see them! But I didn't know what he meant."

"What he meant," Aloy replied, "was that you'd need a Focus – this device – to access the holo visions. Now give me a moment to check this out."

Aloy tapped the Focus on her temple, and the familiar red-purple grid appeared before her. She knew the others couldn't see what she saw, but since her main interest was the condition of the holoplayer in her left hand, she held it before her and read a message that appeared next to the player:

 **HOLOPLAYER. STATUS: PARTIALLY CORRUPTED.**

Another tap of the Focus and the grid and words disappeared. Aloy looked at the two women. Each of them had an incredulous look on her face, but Harlie's expression seemed more intense while Cass simply seemed curious.

"It's in pretty bad shape," Aloy said as she extended her hand toward Harlie, offering to return the holoplayer. "I'm not sure anything can be recovered."

Harlie folded her arms and recoiled from Aloy's offer. "If you can see all that, why can't you see the vision on it?"

"I might be able access the contents – 'see the vision,' as you call it – but I'm not sure you want to see it."

"I have had that box for most of my life," Harlie almost snorted back at Aloy. "I have tried to focus on it and force a vision to appear, but I can't. Since you're a witch, _you_ can do it, I'm sure."

"Yes, Aloy," Cass spoke quietly and calmly, "if your… device… can show us the 'visions,' perhaps we will learn something valuable. Perhaps this box was left behind by Those Who Destroyed the Earth, to tell us why they did it."

"Those Who Destroyed the Earth?" Aloy asked. "We know why and how the Earth was _almost_ destroyed. We just know so little about _what_ the Old Ones knew."

"You know this? It seems we have much more to discuss, you and I." Cass looked puzzled. "If you can reveal the contents of this box, please, let us see them."

Aloy realized that the story of all that had happened during the Corruption and the discovery of Project Zero Dawn had not reached this far. At least, not to everyone. She made a note to have a conversation with Cass about it. But first, there was the matter of the holoplayer.

"Alright," Aloy said as she looked at the holoplayer once more. "I'll see if my Focus can recover anything from this holo. But be warned, both of you: the images may be very realistic, and they may be frightening. If they're too much, I can stop the playback. Now," she said as she once again activated her Focus, "let's see what Harlie's been packing all these years…"

A faint rusted circle on one side of the holoplayer shone clearly in Aloy's Focus: PLAY was visible to her alone. She pressed hard on the button with her right thumb, and after a few seconds, a flickering image started to appear as if in the air before them: a scratchy, black and white image of what might be a road, multiple buildings lining the sides of the road. Stopped along the road were the sorts of moving vehicles Aloy had encountered at times, but rather than rusting hulks, these seemed shiny and new. The image became clearer as they watched: on one side of the road, what might have been young men, dressed in very unfamiliar clothing, were running towards them, each glancing behind him at times. There was still no sound, but in seconds the image shifted slightly, and they could see a mob of young girls in frantic pursuit of the boys. All of them were dressed very strangely, and none appeared to be carrying a weapon.

"Oh, dear!" Harlie exclaimed. "Those boy must be witches, too, and the girls are going to stone them to death!"

"No, I don't think that's it – look," Cass stated, "now we can see the young men, and they seem to be laughing. I think it's some kind of game."

The grainy imagery faded and strengthened, still in black and white ghost-outlines, as a crackling sound began to emanate from the box. An odd series of sounds could be heard – Aloy recognized it as some sort of music, though she couldn't determine the instruments – and then voices, singing, with the music:

… _It's been a hard day's night_

 _I should be sleeping like a log_

 _But when I get home to you_

 _I'll find the things that you do_

 _Will make me feel alright…_

Then the sound ended abruptly, the visions faded away, and there was nothing but silence. After several seconds, Harlie spoke.

"Bring it back! Why did you stop? What did that _mean_?"

"That's all my Focus could detect," Aloy explained. "The holo is badly damaged. I can play that piece again, but I don't think I can recover any more."

"You _must_ bring it back! You _are_ a witch… and you're an evil witch, too, if that's all you're going to let us see!" Harlie was getting more agitated by the moment. Cass attempted to calm her.

"Hold on, Harlie, Aloy is no more a witch than I am." Cass turned to Aloy and asked, "what _do_ you think that vision means?"

"I don't know," Aloy replied, "I'm not even sure the song went along with the images. It said something about sleeping 'like a log,' not an expression I've ever heard. But I agree with you, Cass, I think this was a game of some kind. Maybe the full image was a form of entertainment for the Old Ones.

"I'm sorry, Harlie," Aloy said as she handed the holoplayer back to the woman with her left hand and deactivated the Focus with her right, "that's the best I could do."

All was quiet for a moment, then Cass asked, "Have you done this before? Generated images, I mean."

"Well, sort of," Aloy replied, "but I don't really 'generate' them as much as I use the Focus to visualize them.

"I am disappointed in this holo, though. I was hoping it might contain some knowledge from the Old Ones. Something that would help us understand more about them, or even better, more about our world."

"If that's what you seek, my dear friend, I hope you find it."

"Honestly," Aloy said, "I've already found a stash of holos. And books, and who knows what else. I just can't get to it."

"Oh?" Cass brightened. "Where? Maybe I can help?"

"In two places, but I don't think you can do much to help. There is a building in the Irradiated City, and a room where thousands of books somehow survived from the time of the Old Ones. I saw only a few of them.

"The second place was a room in The Bunker, where the people living there worship the image they call Miriam. That room is packed to the ceiling with holos and books, and as far as I could tell, no one has looked at any of them."

"Uh, you know… that might not be a problem."

"What might not? The Irradiated City or The Bunker?"

"Well, maybe both, eventually. But first, The Bunker… remember that I said Jhonn wants to control The Bunker? Last I heard, his plot involved killing everyone who lives there and taking the place over for himself. Maybe you can negotiate with him to get access to that room you describe."

"What? He can't do that! There are innocent people in that Bunker!"

Cass recoiled slightly, shocked at the vehemence of Aloy's protest. "You've… you've seen The Bunker? You didn't mention that when I spoke about it."

"I didn't know you or trust you then! But now I'll tell you – I know the main entrance and I know of a secret back entrance. I met some of the residents and they are not bad people. Some of them don't want to live in The Bunker anymore."

"Obviously I don't know his timing, but I suspect Jhonn will make his move sooner rather than later. He has some sort of secret weapon – something that he claimed would seek out every living being in the Bunker and kill it. After that, he plans to clean the place out and take it over for himself and his most loyal followers.

"If you have friends in The Bunker, Aloy, I suggest you get moving as soon as you can."

"Yes, I agree," Aloy nodded. This is very distressing news. I've got to try to stop Skulldriver, or get the word to people in The Bunker. Or maybe do both."

Cass turned to Harlie. "I think that's enough excitement for tonight, let's let Aloy get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning."

"Yes… about the morning," Aloy commented. Cass turned back toward her.

"What about the morning?"

"I promised Skulldriver I'd find out who was damaging his orchard, and if I'm away too long he'll probably get suspicious. I think it best that I report back to him tomorrow. And I'll find a way to get more information on his invasion plans for The Bunker."

"I suppose you're right," Cass replied, "but I wish you'd just forget that monster and settle in here."

"Thank you for the invitation," Aloy replied as she turned back to the equipment spread on the floor behind her, reached down, and lifted the Banuk wrap. "Maybe someday… I actually have more offers to 'settle in' than you might imagine."

"Knowing you, my dear, I suspect you have at least one offer from every person you've ever met."

"Not quite _that_ many offers," Aloy chuckled, "and some of those 'offers' included my funeral. But I want to learn more than I have, to try to understand where we came from, what we should know, what we can do to rebuild our world."

"All the more reason to stay a bit longer," Cass said as she ushered Harlie toward the door, "so you can see the school we've set up."

"That sounds wonderful!" Aloy replied, "perhaps whenever I return…"

"Yes, perhaps if you ever return," Cass said as she reached the doorway and stopped to turn toward Aloy. "Have a pleasant night's sleep, my new friend, and don't forget to wash up - I think your water is starting to boil. if I don't see you before you leave in the morning, travel in peace."

"Thank you, and you too," Aloy said, "and same for you, Harlie!" The elderly woman had already exited the room, but Aloy was sure she heard a faint grunt, or perhaps it was a growl, from outside the door.


	11. Chapter 11: Kill the Firehair

Aloy had no trouble falling asleep. Multiple nights of interrupted sleep had taken their toll.

Preparation for bed had been sheer joy. The hot water Cass arranged for her succeeded in washing away the horrible stench of the Bandit clothing she'd been wearing, and Aloy's familiar Shield-Weaver Armor felt oddly comfortable, even though it was hardly designed as sleeping attire. As she had lain her Banuk wrap on the floor, near the stove, she reveled in the bright flames that arose from the burning of the Bandit outfit. She'd used the towel to rinse as much of the lampblack as she could from her uneven, short mop of hair, relieved that she no longer needed to pretend to be a common Bandit.

Cass had left a torch mounted to a wall – perhaps intentionally, to provide Aloy with sufficient light – and the smoke and steam that arose from the torch when Aloy had stabbed it into the water bowl lingered near the ceiling of the room. It slowly dissipated through the hole in the ceiling where the stovepipe extended, and as the flames of the burning Bandit clothing died down, Aloy curled up in the warmth of her wrap, feeling more comfortable and contented than she'd felt in… well, in a very long time. It took mere seconds for her to fall into a deep sleep ( _now I'm certain there was something in that soup!_ ), warm, clean, and protected – with just a hint of a chill from her shorn head.

* * *

Aloy had never been a heavy sleeper. She had been alone all her adult life – since the death of her foster father, Rost – and she had since spent many a night trying to rest, knowing that the next day she faced battles, wars, Corrupted Machines and crazed humans, most of them with the express intent of ending her life, so sleep was always light, with one ear to the air to listen for impending threats. This night was different.

So it was that when Aloy felt someone shaking her arm, it took seconds for her to realize it. She quickly sat up on the floor, groggy, and tried to rub the sleep from her eyes with balled fists. She'd been dreaming, in the midst of a memory of life as a child, sitting by a warm fireplace in a cabin as Rost prepared their dinner, too young to yet realize that she, like Rost, was an Outcast in the Nora Tribe.

But the sounds of combat just outside the door brought her back to reality. There was little light in the room, provided only by a glow through the open door, but it was sufficient to see that the tugging at her arm was Cass's son Jhonnson, sobbing, barefoot and dressed in a nightshirt. Aloy could hear the clanging of metal on metal, yells and screams, and the moans of what were most likely wounded. Without speaking, Aloy pulled the boy to her wrap and motioned for him to lie down. She pulled the corner of the wrap up to cover the boy, then she stood and retrieved her lance.

A quick scan with her Focus showed a scene of devastation: from the other side of the village, just a handful of buildings downhill from her, there were dozens of people. Some were swinging weapons in one-on-one combat – Cass, tall and slim, stood out among the fighters as she brandished a broadsword as easily as if it were a stick – while others lay on the ground in agony, or lay completely still, presumably dead. The farthest buildings were on fire and she could tell that there were bodies still in those buildings. She paused her scan to watch Cass's opponent. Words appeared on the Focus: **MERCENARY. HOSTILE HUMAN**.

Aloy deactivated her Focus and ran from the building. The sky ahead, down the shallow hill into the valley, toward the herd of Chargers, was full of smoke. It cast an eerie glow on the combat scene as she ran between buildings and engaged a Mercenary who was attempting to set another building on fire. He was clearly unskilled in combat, and Aloy's lance disposed of him in seconds.

Mercenaries outnumbered villagers by at least two to one. And many of those villagers were ill-equipped for battle: some were older and not as agile as their opponents, some were not dressed or equipped with suitable weapons, some simply not physically able to sustain combat. Aloy realized that, in her haste, she'd forgotten to collect her bow or sling or bombs, any of which would be helpful at this time.

So she stopped and let out a loud, shrill whistle. In seconds, a Charger came galloping from the tall grass below her: the Charger she'd overridden the afternoon before. She jumped on the Machine's back as it approached and goaded it into ramming the closest Mercenary. It trampled the shocked enemy before he (perhaps it was a "she") could move out of its way. Aloy directed the Machine into a pack of Mercenaries that was running toward the village. She leapt from the Machine and drove her lance into the chest of an oncoming Mercenary, and the Charger began kicking and ramming several of the others. At first, the attackers were so dumbfounded by the actions of the Machine that they put up no fight, but then several of them started pounding and stabbing at the Charger. Which, of course, only made the Machine more determined to attack them.

Aloy rushed to assist Cass and two other villagers who were dealing with another cluster of Mercenaries. One of them swung a mace and struck Aloy in the back, causing her to stagger, but nothing more, as the Shield-Weaver Armor absorbed the blow. Cass gave a mighty swing of her broadsword and the Mercenary fell dead, blood spurting from the woman's neck.

It was only minutes before the battle ended. The carnage was indescribable: dozens dead or dying, helpless and unarmed villagers crying in agony, three or four buildings fully engulfed in flames, perhaps only a dozen people still standing. And, nearby, a solitary Charger, stoically standing alone, sparks flying and smoke billowing from the damage it had suffered.

But the Mercenaries were dead. Most of them, anyway.

"Cass, come here quick!" a female voice called from near one of the burning structures. Cass and Aloy approached to find a young villager kneeling before a male Mercenary, his chest pumping rapidly as he gasped for air. His face and arms were red with blood. "This man is trying to say something, but whatever it is doesn't make sense!"

"Piedad por favor…" the man whispered, then coughed as if choking on his own blood. "No quiero morir!"

Cass and Aloy stood over the man and looked at one another. "Is that some sort of code?" Cass asked.

"I don't think so, at least it's not anything I know," Aloy replied. The man continued to mutter unintelligibly. "It might be a language we don't know."

Aloy thought for a moment. "I wonder… my Focus is able to interpret so much, maybe it can help." She tapped the Focus and looked down at the man: **MERCENARY. HOSTILE HUMAN**.

Then the man looked up at Aloy, and an expression of shock and fear came over him. "… La mujer de pelo de fuego…" he muttered. The Focus immediately displayed a series of words, floating off-center where Aloy could clearly read them: **LANGUAGE: SPANISH. ENGLISH TRANSLATION: THE WOMAN OF HAIR OF FIRE.**

Cass could tell by Aloy's face that she had learned something. "What is it? Did your device help or not?"

"Yes…" Aloy replied, "but I don't know what it means. Apparently he just called me 'the woman with hair of fire," but in something called 'Spanish' that got translated to 'English'."

"English!" the kneeling young girl said. "In school, our teacher told us that the language we speak is called English. She didn't know why, but it is. And this man is speaking something called Spanish."

"Hmm…" Cass muttered. "You know, I have heard of a land, far to the south and east, where people talk in an unfamiliar tongue. Could this Bandit be from there?"

"Possibly," Aloy replied. "But he's not a Bandit. He's – they all are – Mercenaries. Hired to destroy something. Or someone."

"Mercenaries?" Cass responded. "I guarantee it was that bastard Skulldriver! He couldn't wait to hear from you so he hired these thugs to kill me."

"Maybe they were hired to kill me," Aloy noted.

"I think you should see this." Cass and Aloy turned to the origin of the voice from behind: an older man, gashed badly in one arm. He held a piece of what appeared to be white cloth. Cass took it from the man and held it out for Aloy to see. On the cloth was a crude drawing, cartoonish and without much detail, of the face of a woman in flowing red hair. Attached over one ear was a glowing green triangle – a Focus. Despite the simplicity, it was unmistakable. Aloy's heart sank.

"That's me," she said. Sure enough, Cass unrolled the wrinkled bottom portion of the cloth, where two words were written: Aloy. Firehair.

"I found it on one of the bodies over there," the man motioned to a pile of bodies behind him. "It was in his hand, all rolled up."

"They came here to kill me," Aloy said, "and instead they've destroyed your village."

"If they were hired to kill you," Cass noted, "who hired them? And why?"

The wounded Mercenary continued to sputter something, and when Aloy looked down her Focus translated again. The man said, "Piedad por favor," and the Focus showed "Mercy please."

Aloy explained it to the others around her. "This man wants our mercy."

"Is there any way you can use your… Focus? … to talk to him?" Cass asked.

"I don't know," Aloy answered, "I just found out it could translate. Let me see what I can do."

Aloy reached her right hand to her side – it must have seemed very odd to Cass and the villagers – and "touched" the Focus's display of **LANGUAGE: ENGLISH**. To her complete surprise, the words reversed and now read **LANGUAGE: SPANISH**.

Aloy looked down at the man on the ground and spoke, slowly, "Who paid you?" As she spoke, the words appeared on the display in her Focus, and below them were the words **QUIEN TE PAGO**. Aloy read the words slowly and deliberately, but the man didn't respond immediately: she didn't know how to pronounce them. She tried repeating the words, changing short vowels for long and long for short. Finally, when Aloy uttered "kwen tea paygo," the man's face lit up; he responded "no sé" and the Focus displayed "Don't know." Then the man said "alguien del refugio" and the Focus translated it as "someone of the refuge."

Aloy told the villagers what she'd learned. "The refuge? What's that?" Cass asked.

"I think," Aloy answered, "he means The Bunker. Someone in The Bunker put a pretty big price on my head."

"Why? Who hates you so much they want you dead?"

"I didn't leave there under the best of terms. One of the leaders – they all call themselves Generals – took a special objection to my presence. I think he even ordered me to be killed."

"Well, that order didn't succeed, so how'd you avoid your own funeral?"

"I managed to escape, but there are a couple of soldiers who probably haven't been able to walk straight since. I told you there are good people in The Bunker? Well, one of them, a soldier, returned my weapons and gave me food and water.

"Maybe that General didn't like how I treated his troops, or maybe all the leaders came to an agreement that I was a threat somehow. I don't know.

"The Bunker is run like a military camp, except almost everyone I saw was… well… not healthy. There are less than a thousand people, and they're separated into Sectors, and rules forbid social contact between Sectors. They're allowed to have children only within their own Sector. Even the general staff – and there are only twenty or so in that Sector. All of the general staff seemed to have some affliction, like deformed legs, or strange jaws, or hair missing…"

"Inbreeding."

The voice came from the older man standing behind Aloy. He stepped up to join the conversation.

"It's something called inbreeding. It's what happens when relatives mate only with relatives, there's not enough diversity to prevent it."

"How do you know this?" Aloy asked.

"I was born in The Bunker, in the Medical Sector. My father was a doctor. He made me read his medical texts, a collection of ancient books that he studied every night. There was an entire chapter on inbreeding. It's a very bad thing, and eventually everyone will die away as they become idiots or are unable to give birth."

"That fits with what I saw," Aloy replied. "The Generals are so intent on keeping power, and on running The Bunker like a military camp, that they don't even realize the amount of history and knowledge of the Old Ones they've got stored away."

"So I guess," Cass mused, "if we wait long enough they'll eventually die off. But that will take generations. What do we do now? Skulldriver is still going to invade the place. And besides…"

Cass's pause lingered, so Aloy said, "Besides… What?"

"How did these Mercenaries know you were here? How'd they get here so fast? Why would the leaders of The Bunker want you dead?"

"I'm not sure I know all the answers," Aloy looked at the burning buildings as she spoke. Gradually, the few remaining villagers had found their way to stand nearby, many leaning on one another as they stumbled into the clearing, almost all of them with cuts and burns on their bodies. "But maybe, somehow, using my Focus last night tipped them off. Maybe those Generals are not as ignorant as they seemed. Maybe they were able to track my Focus to this village. Maybe the Mercenaries were available and they just followed directions."

"These Mercenaries were well-trained, I can tell you that," Cass commented, "and well-equipped. None of my people in this field are my elite guards – they were all stationed on the hills to either side of us – and it appears the Mercenaries took them out first."

Aloy looked at the gathering crowd as Cass spoke. Then the realization of all that had just transpired set in.

"Cass, I am so sorry," Aloy said, "this is all my fault. I brought these killers here, and they were after me alone, and now your village is wiped out because of me."

Cass stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Aloy, pulling her close. "Yes, this is a disaster, one that I hoped would never happen. But I expected it. Only I thought it would be Skulldriver's men, and we'd all be dead. We all realize the threats we face just living here. We will find a way to survive and rebuild."

"I don't think you should rebuild, Cassandra. I think it's time you joined with Skulldriver. Work out an agreement, run your own village in his camp, become a leader with him."

Aloy could hear the murmuring of nearby villagers, even over the constant crackling of burning buildings. She couldn't tell if they were murmurs of agreement or protest, or a mix of both. She nudged against Cass's hug and the woman relaxed her grip.

Cass sighed, "Yes, perhaps you are right. We couldn't defend ourselves against a Machine right now, much less a Bandit clan. The people you see here, they are scientists and artists, they are not fighters.

"If you will, help me take stock of my village. We need to go through the buildings and look for survivors. We'll start in the burned ones, and we'll collect clothes, food, weapons, anything we can salvage to survive for another day. And we'll… wait… _Jhonnson_! Where is my son?" Cass looked frantically about at the villagers. "Where is Jhonnson?"

"Don't worry, he's safe," Aloy responded. _I think_. "He came to see me when the fighting broke out and I put him to bed by the stove."

As if on cue, Cass and Aloy looked in the direction of the path between buildings, and there they could see a silhouette of a diminutive figure, standing alone beyond the devastation of the burned buildings and human bodies. Cass ran to her son; Aloy decided to start the grim task of surveying the destroyed buildings. The first building she reached had only two walls still standing, as everything inside the small one-room shack smoldered. Against the far wall, what had been a bed, and on the ruins of the bed a body, burned beyond recognition.

Almost beyond recognition. Aloy knew the body was that of the old woman, Harlie, clearly so caught by surprise that she had been unable to leave her bed. Her blackened arms were folded across her bosom, and under those arms Aloy could make out the charred remains of a box: Harlie's "vision" box, the holoplayer that had, for a few seconds, fulfilled a lifelong dream: of a vision revealed by a Focus, a grainy, black-and-white image of only a few seconds' duration, a curious image of four boys running down a city street, a pack of screaming girls in hot pursuit, a song playing in the background.

… _It's been a hard day's night_ …

The words seemed at once laughably contradictory – how could a night be a day? – and eerily prophetic. This night had indeed been a hard day.


	12. Chapter 12: Negotiations

Sleep was out of the question.

The Mercenaries' attack had come just before dawn, and Aloy couldn't think of trying to get any more rest before sunrise. So she set out on her journey back to Skulldriver's Camp, grateful for the knowledge that the walk out of the narrow valley and descent down the steep hillside above the camp would take hours. She needed the time to compose her conversation with Skulldriver, to try to determine his plans for The Bunker, to try to negotiate for the lives of the Bunker residents that she knew: the girl Laborer Cary, Second Class (and her faithful companion, the dog Sem); perhaps Cary's friend, if he could be identified and convinced to leave; the guard who helped Aloy escape. _Well, in hindsight, not all that many people I really want to save!_ she thought. And, she remembered, she would have to negotiate with Skulldriver for the life of Cass and all of the survivor's in Cass's village.

But Aloy did not set out alone. Cass was with her. Before leaving the village, Aloy had searched Cass out among the ruins, only to find her stuffing food and drink into a small knapsack and saying a quick goodbye to her son. "I have to face that ass someday," Cass had explained. "I've lost half my people, my best sentries, my doctor and my chief scientist. We won't survive another attack, and I'll bet one is coming. Maybe I can convince that murderous bastard that my people deserve to live. I'll gladly trade my life for theirs, if it comes to that."

They walked in silence for the most part, each listening for possible sounds of a rampaging Machine or a fresh onslaught of Mercenaries, or just the random passing Bandit. Fortunately, the walk was reasonably quiet and peaceful, and Aloy relished the warmth of the morning sun on her back as the two trekked toward the west.

Occasional chatter broke the silence, such as the time that Cass asked, almost whispering so as not to shatter the silence, "You said back in the village that you think a General in The Bunker ordered the Mercenary attack. Do you know _for sure_ the person responsible? Can we use that information against her? Or him?"

"It's a him, his name is Ormstead. But I can't think of a way we can use that information to our advantage. It happens that General Ormstead is in charge of the Bunker guards. I know at least one of his guards wants out, and she told me there are more… so maybe… if we could get the word to the guards…"

"Yes?" replied Cass. "Go on?"

"… If we could let all the guards know that there is a way out of The Bunker, maybe we could get just a few to leave. Even if they wouldn't help us, at least they wouldn't be in our way."

Cass stopped abruptly, causing Aloy to stop and turn back, and ask, "What'd I say?"

"You're saying 'we' and 'us' for this Bunker assault. What are you scheming?"

"Well come on, let's keep going, I'll tell you what I'm thinking…" The two continued their trek.

"I'm thinking," Aloy explained, "that if Skulldriver invades The Bunker, there are two likely outcomes: one, he succeeds and everyone in The Bunker gets killed, or two, he fails and everyone in his Camp gets killed. I don't have a lot of love for anyone in either place, and I think something bad's going to happen no matter what I try, so think it'd be best if we could minimize the killing, that's all."

"Okay, let me get this straight," Cass laughed sarcastically, "you and I are going to sneak into The Bunker, get all the good people out, then let Skulldriver loose on them. Is that your plan?"

"No, not at all!" Aloy joined Cass in laughter. She thought for a moment before continuing, "though I do like part of what you said: if we can get a few people out of The Bunker, I'd be willing to help Skulldriver with his plans. Provided he'll promise immunity for anyone who survives, and he'll give me access to all the books and holodisks we can find."

"You know," Cass replied, "that's a nutty plan. You're going to be negotiating with a lunatic, and then – even if that lunatic agrees – you're going to have to figure out how to get back in The Bunker, avoid the lunatics there, and get people out peacefully. Then you're going to have to hope the first lunatic wins. And hope it doesn't turn even more crazy in the process."

"It does seem a bit… um… farfetched, doesn't it?" Cass was right – the plan did sound nutty.

"Yep, and if I'd heard this yesterday I'd say you're the more dangerous lunatic and you need to be locked away. But now… knowing you, seeing what you can do, seeing your strength and will… I believe you just might pull this thing off."

After this exchange, they walked again in silence, until they reached the hillside where the walk changed to a descent. Aloy searched for the first good handhold, but before she could start down, Cass reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Listen," Cass said, "we need to talk about something."

Aloy could see the sincerity in Cass's eyes: there was something bugging her.

"Alright," Aloy replied, "let's sit and have a little water before we go on."

The two women sat atop the hill, looking down in the direction of the Skulldriver Camp – the village of Gorman – but were unable to see the village just yet. Aloy noted that she could see two stretches of what appeared to be trails or roads, running left to right in the valley far below and in the distance. Gorman should be just out of view to the right, next to the nearest of the two trails.

Cass took a long drink from a goatskin bag and passed it to Aloy. "I don't think I should go with you into the Camp."

Aloy was not surprised. "I understand," she said, "I knew you'd feel that way. If Skulldriver gets as irrational as you say he can, he probably won't want to see either of us. I'll go first and talk to him. If he doesn't attack me and I think he's willing to listen to you, I'll signal you. Okay?"

"That sounds good," Cass replied. "Look, I'm sorry for leaving you on your own here – "

"I hope you won't leave me _entirely_ on my own! There are places on the hill where you can hide, so if Skulldriver goes completely lunatic on me you can protect my ass while I run away."

"Of course," Cass answered, "but I don't know how much good I'll be at long range with just a spear and a knife…"

"Can you shoot straight?"

"Yes, I think so… I haven't tried in years, but I used to be pretty good with bow and arrow."

"Great, then when we find a place for you to hang out, I'll leave you my bow and all my arrows. Some have special… abilities… so we'll review them before I talk to Skulldriver."

"It's a deal," Cass answered. "If you're ready I'm ready. Let's go!"

Aloy took a swig from Cass's water bag, capped it, and handed it back. Then she stood, adjusted the gear pack strapped over her shoulder, and began the long descent toward Gorman.

The descent was slow enough as the pair scoured for solid footing and secure handholds, but made even slower as they continually paused to listen for voices or watch for any telltale signs of life. It wouldn't be a good idea to meet a climbing Bandit unprepared, and they didn't want to find themselves suddenly dropping into Skulldriver's lair.

The sun was shining on the hillside as they got within earshot of the Camp. Aloy could hear voices, what sounded like casual conversation, as she peered over a ledge: below was the southernmost point of the Camp, Skulldriver's damaged orchard spreading out below her and to her right, toward the north. The voices belonged to a group of workers tending the trees, most of which were devoid of leaves or fruit, the closest devoid of limbs – thanks to Cass's team's raid on the Camp just two nights ago.

The handful of laborers were unarmed, and as far as Aloy could see there were no guards nearby: Skulldriver either wasn't worried about a daylight raid or he considered these lowly day workers unworthy of protection.

"This is a good spot," Aloy whispered as she removed her weapons sling and handed her bow and quiver to Cass. "If you lean over you can see the edge of the Camp. I'm going to talk to those people and see if I can get Skulldriver to come out here to meet me. It may take a little time, so don't give up on me!"

After a brief introduction to Aloy's bow and the assortment of Precision and Fire Arrows in her quiver, Cass settled into a thatch of tall grass that made a natural blind just feet from the edge of the orchard. Aloy moved a few feet to her left, and with a loud grunt and a solid thud, leapt to the solid soil marking the pathway encircling the orchard. She had no intention of appearing to be stalking the farmworkers. She kept her lance stowed in the wrap behind her back, hands empty.

Two nearby workers looked over at her, startled by the sounds she made, and froze in fear.

"Hello!" Aloy called out calmly. She started to say "remember me?" but stopped short when she realized that, first, she'd really met very few of the residents of Gorman, and two, even if she'd met these people two days ago, it was when she was pretending to be a threatening Bandit and not a firehaired (firescalped?) adventurer.

The workers appeared to be quite young, younger than Aloy, a boy and a girl. The nearest, the girl, spoke first. "H-Hello?" Aloy could sense the apprehension in the girl's voice.

"I'm a friend of Skulldriver," Aloy stated as she walked, as casually as she could, in the girl's direction. "I was here a few days ago. I brought some… friends of mine… to this Camp to get medical attention. Skulldriver asked me to do him a favor, and I'm just returning. Could one of you go and let him know I'm here?"

The second worker, barely in his teens, with dirty ragged clothes and dirt smudged on his face, scowled at Aloy in reply. "You want to tell him, go find him yourself."

By this time Aloy was within arm's reach of the girl. "Hi, I'm Aloy."

The girl looked frightened, but her glances toward the boy told Aloy that she didn't want to let him see her fear. "I'll get Skulldriver for you."

"Why's _he_ gotta come to _you_?" the boy scowled as he approached the pair.

"Well… he doesn't, really, it's just that I'm sort of a stranger in Camp and I don't know how the guards will react if they see a stranger wandering around. But if Skulldriver comes here I can just wait for him."

"Yeah, alright," the boy replied, "but he's likely to throw you in a cage when he sees you. Or maybe he'll do something worse."

"Thanks for the warning, but I'll take my chances," Aloy said curtly as she turned to the girl. "Will you tell Skulldriver that Aloy – the Red Devil – is back?"

The girl glanced once again at the scowling boy, then, without answering, turned and started running down the open pathway next to the orchard. Aloy watched her disappear from sight, then turned back to the boy, who looked even more unhappy.

"Where'd you come from?" the boy asked.

"Hmmm…. do you mean, where was I born? Or where was I just a few minutes ago?"

"You're just like all the women around here, ya stupid bitch!"

"You know," Aloy said in a stern voice, "everything you just said is wrong: I'm not a bitch, I'm not stupid, and I guarantee you that I'm totally unlike any other woman around here. And I hope your mother doesn't hear you talk like that."

"I don't have a mother."

"Oh, I see… I'm sorry. Did she live here, in the Camp?"

"No, well maybe, actually I don't know. I was told she died when I was little and I was raised by a guy who worked here. So I only know this Camp."

"We have something in common," Aloy explained. "I didn't have a mother either. I was raised by a very brave man who taught me manners, including to respect my elders."

"Yeah? How old are _you_?"

"Twenty. You?"

The boy's dour expression softened just a bit. "You're _twenty_? Wow, I thought you were really old! I'm thirteen."

"You seem quite mature for a thirteen-year-old," Aloy lied: she thought he acted much more like a spoiled brat, but she had to pass the time somehow, so she decided to try a little kindness.

"Hey, I'm not that much younger than you, and I know a lot of stuff. Like, I know about sex and stuff."

This conversation, Aloy realized, was rapidly getting off track. "Good for you," she said, as she looked down the row of trees in the direction the girl had run. "I wonder if your friend found Skulldriver yet."

"She's not my friend! I hate her, she's just a silly _girl_!"

"So you know 'stuff,' do you? You know what happens to girls? They grow up to be women. Maybe if you were nicer to her now she'll like you when you're older.

"And here comes Skulldriver now!" Aloy was relieved to see the immense, hulking figure of the Camp leader appear from behind (and, she noticed, towering a bit taller than) the trees in the distance. The girl who had gone in search of him was beside him, almost in a sprint to keep up with the man almost three times her height.

The boy turned as Aloy spoke, saw Skulldriver, and dashed into the orchard at high speed.

As Skulldriver and the girl approached, Aloy noted a third person trailing behind them, also struggling to keep pace. It was Paintface.

Skulldriver waved a hand at Aloy as the trio neared her. "Hello, my dear! How nice to see you again. And you look much better now that you've dropped that silly Bandit disguise – it didn't fit you anyway. And you're cleaner, too!"

"Good to see you too, Skulldriver," Aloy replied as she glanced from the hulk of a man to the much smaller Paintface only now reaching them. "Hi, Paintface, I'm glad to see you're okay."

"Okay? Why wouldn't she be okay?" Skulldriver looked puzzled. "What were you expecting?"

"Oh, nothing, just making polite conversation," Aloy answered in a light voice: she half-expected Paintface to be either in mourning for the recent loss of her husband – if she yet understood – or in some torture chamber somewhere for failing her job as a Bandit. She noted that Paintface seemed to hesitate and glance at Skulldriver beside her before speaking.

"Why, I'm fine, as you can see, Red Devil," Paintface stuttered ever so slightly.

Skulldriver glanced at Paintface and then looked again at Aloy. Then he turned to his left, where the young girl stood, transfixed by Aloy's shimmering armor, and waved silently to dismiss her. The girl turned and walked into the orchard, disappearing from view in seconds. "Let's knock off that 'Red Devil' crap, okay? I know your name is Aloy, and I'm hoping you've got some good news for me."

"Good news?"

"Yes. Tell me you found the scoundrels who raided my orchard, and tell me they're all dead, and we'll hold a party tonight in your honor!"

"Yeah, well, it didn't go _exactly_ like that…"

"What do you mean, not 'exactly'? Are the assholes dead or not?"

"Some of them," Aloy replied – referring in this case not to anything she'd done, but to the loss of life from the Mercenary attack. But Skulldriver didn't need to know that just yet.

"Some of them. Okay… was there a real skinny, tall, dark-haired woman among 'em? Looks kind of like she might keel over dead any minute? A real mouthy bitch, just askin' to be put out of her misery?"

"There was a tall woman in the group, yes," Aloy replied, "but she doesn't fit anything else you described. Great warrior, leader of a group of warriors."

"That sounds like her. I bet she was just laughin' at what she did to my almond trees, wasn't she?"

"I didn't see her laughing about it, no."

"Yeah, well, whatever," Skulldriver sneered. "Just as long as _she's_ dead."

"About that…" Aloy trailed off as she heard a voice in the distance behind her.

"About that, you son of a goat, I am _not_ dead." It was Cass, rising from the hill behind and above Aloy, approaching the group. "You want to try and finish it? Let's go, right here and now!"

Skulldriver's face turned red – at least Aloy thought so: between the hazy afternoon sun and the leader's scarred and damaged face, it was not easy to be sure that it was a reaction and not just the bright sunlight hitting his face. She was certain, though, that he was angry, appeared close to breaking into a rage, and the impression was confirmed when he pulled a sharp, long-bladed knife from the belt around his waist.

"I guess I gotta finish the job…" Skulldriver started walking slowly and deliberately toward Cass. Aloy reached behind her, grasped her lance, and pulled it above her head and out of its resting place in her pouch. She grasped the lance with both hands and stepped between Skulldriver and Cass, now only steps apart on the dirt trail.

"STOP!" Aloy shouted at Skulldriver. The ferocity in her voice clearly caught Skulldriver by surprise, as he took a quick step backward and looked down at the relatively slight figure of the Nora woman before him.

"Don't you interfere," Skulldriver scowled, "I've got nothing against you. If you wanna die too, wait yer turn and I'll get to ya."

"No one's dying here," Aloy responded, forcefully yet calmly. "Look, if you two want to finish your little lover's quarrel, that's your business, but do it some other time. We've got bigger issues to resolve."

That seemed to work: Skulldriver's interest was piqued. He lowered his right arm to his side, loosening his grip on the knife, as he spoke. "Issues? What kind of issues?"

"Let's start with survival. You've built a great village here, Jhonn…" she paused to let that sink in. Skulldriver took a moment to respond.

"No one's called me that name for months. Maybe years. Obviously Cassandra told you my name, but I'm not Jhonn anymore. I'm Skulldriver."

"It's time you went back to being a little more Jhonn the leader and less Skulldriver the monster."

"You know," Skulldriver spoke slowly and carefully, "if you weren't Aloy the Anointed, the Machine Tamer, the Bandit Slayer… whatever other shit you've got hanging on you… I'd slit yer throat for sayin' that."

"How about just Aloy of the Nora, or maybe Aloy, someone who really wants to make things better?"

"Alright, Aloy of the Nora, since yer so smart, what should Jhonn do now? And why?"

" _What_ you do, I think we need to talk about. _Why_ you do it is to make this village into a place where people like Paintface here, and the kids you have slaving in your orchard, and your son who had to go into exile to get away from you, can live in peace."

"Does that mean… is my boy alright? He's not dead or nothin'?"

"No thanks to _you_ , no, he's not dead," Cass spoke up. "But there's a threat. Mercenaries. Aloy thinks someone in The Bunker hired them."

"Mercenaries? Like, hired killers? What'd they do?" Skulldriver asked.

"They were after me," Aloy interjected, "and I think they tracked me down to… I've got to tell him, Cass, he's got to know… to a small village, where I met Cassandra, and your son, and others who are trying to survive on their own. Mercenaries invaded before sunrise this morning and wiped out half the village. Cass set the village up to give people like her a place to live, and I drew killers there. And I think the leaders from The Bunker will try again."

"I don't understand," Skulldriver said. "Why would anyone in The Bunker want to kill you? Why'd they think they _could_ kill you? There ain't many people that don't know about you, ya know, and how you seem to cheat death over and over again. I think some of 'em are startin' to think you got super powers, or you're some kinda religious figure or somethin'."

"I'm flattered people would think that," Aloy replied as she lowered her lance to her side. "But I'm pretty sure I'm human like you and everyone else. I've just been lucky.

"I'll be happy to tell you all about my tour of The Bunker and my… 'encounter'… with one of its leaders. But we have something we need to work out right now."

"Okay, go ahead."

"There are maybe a thirty people still alive in Cass's village, but some of them are hurt pretty badly and some are children. They need to be moved to a safer place. We want them to move here."

"Nope, not gonna happen," Skulldriver shook his head emphatically. "You know, you saw a couple nights ago when you came in here pretendin' to be a Bandit with a bunch of other Bandits – we let people move in, we've been doin' it for years, but we're runnin' short o' food for 'em. We can't take more freeloaders."

"They won't be freeloaders," Aloy promised.

"My people can fend for themselves. They have stores of food to bring in, they can plant crops and grow their own food, and they can even produce more than they can eat. They just need the protection of the walls of Gorman, and your elite guards, to help them survive."

"Jhonn…" Aloy began, "I'm asking you, begging you, to let them move here. Let them take a corner of your village, Cass will be their leader and you don't have to do anything but give them protection. They'll stay to themselves if you want, and they'll provide extra food for your village.

"And I promise, if you'll do that, I'll help you invade The Bunker."

Skulldriver perked up at that last comment. He tried to look indifferent, but Aloy knew she'd made an impact. "Not much of an offer, one underweight girl helping me and my army…"

Aloy snickered.

"…But then, you do know more about The Bunker than I do, so you might be useful."

"So it's a deal?" Aloy asked. "Can Cassandra return to her village and round up her people?"

"Wait, not so fast!" Cass interrupted. "I need some assurances. We can not go back to our old ways, you and I. You will not see your son unless I say it's okay, you will not overrule me at any time when it comes to my village, and you will not touch me, nor will you order any of your thugs to touch me, as long as we live in peace. Agreed?"

Skulldriver laughed before answering. "Huh, ya know, Cassandra, I kinda like you with a little backbone! You've changed a bunch since you slithered away. Yeah, okay, I agree to all that. You can run your little corner of the village and I won't interfere, 'slong as you don't try to take over any of mine."

Cass looked relieved, though Aloy knew she was also wary – Cass knew better than to trust this man completely. Hopefully, their mutual dislike and distrust would allow them to settle on a workable compromise in the future. If there is a future.

"Cass, you go back and get everyone to pack up. It's going to be tough for anyone too injured to climb down that hill, so you might have to look for a shallower way around.

"I'm going to stay here and find shelter for you and the villagers. Then Jhonn and I will start planning our attack on The Bunker."

Cass nodded silently and turned to start back up the hill behind her when Skulldriver spoke. "Hold it, hold it, don't go off on yer own. I'm gonna get ya a little help."

Skulldriver turned to face the orchard and yelled in a deep, threatening voice, "Hey, you kids, get yer asses over here!"

Cass and Aloy looked at one another, then toward the orchard. There, walking slowly, emerged the boy and girl who'd been tending the orchard when they first arrived.

"Have they been there this whole time? Could they hear us?" Cass asked.

"Yep, I'm sure of it," Skulldriver answered. "'Cause I know this type, they can't keep their noses outta other peoples' business. And since they ain't doin' their work, they might as well help you, Cass."

"Well, alright, I can use the help," Cass said, "I'll explain what's going on as we walk."

"Won't be necessary," Skulldriver chuckled, "I guarantee you they heard everything already. If you two weren't here I'd probably just lop off their heads for bein' snoops, 'cause I can count on 'em bein' snitches too. But I guess you need 'em alive more'n I need 'em dead."

Based on the outcome of the negotiations, Aloy suspected Skulldriver was not really serious: he didn't seem the type to wantonly slaughter kids for being nosy. She knew that Skulldriver's true nature lay somewhere between his gruff but ultimately kind exterior, and the horrific demon Cass had made him out to be. No one was as good as one's friends might say, or as bad as one's enemies say.

Overall, Aloy decided that the negotiations had gone as well as she could ever have hoped. If only things always went that smoothly.


	13. Ch 13: Preparations for War

The next few days in Skulldriver's Camp, the village some called Gorman, were uneventful.

Skulldriver (who was amenable to Aloy's calling him Jhonn) was proving to be the enigma he had seemed to be when they first met. He delivered on his promise to Cass: a cluster of abandoned buildings on the northern fringe of the village became the new home for Cass's surviving clan, and Jhonn personally directed the construction of two guard stations outside the buildings facing the north and west. A makeshift fence was constructed around the edge of the buildings, providing some semblance of a barrier to invasion.

Cass refused to speak to Jhonn, so Aloy became the emissary for the new mini-village. A small swatch of arable soil just outside the village walls was adopted as a garden, although, considering it was still winter, the best the farmers could do was till the hard soil and prepare it for planting in the spring. To tide them over, a band of the healthiest of the villagers had made the trek back to their old homestead and retrieved all the stored dried food they could carry. Since their numbers had been halved in the Mercenary attack, the villagers had more than enough food for the winter, so they donated a portion to the main village of Gorman. This started a friendly connection that, Aloy suspected, would eventually lead to full integration of the two settlements. Discussion of the multiple raids on Jhonn's orchards never came up, with either Jhonn or Cass. Apparently all was forgiven… or set aside for now.

Several of the Bandits that Aloy had escorted to Gorman just a few nights ago had chosen to settle in Cass's village. A couple of them even volunteered to learn how to maintain a vegetable garden, while the most hardcore group remained proud and steadfast Bandits – but assisted in staffing the guard stations and effectively served as Cass's new guard corps.

Aloy enjoyed these days, as she found the distraction from the growing threat of war to be a relief. She settled into a room in one of the new village's homes – the villagers, holding no obvious ill will towards her, had agreed that she deserved a private room even though most of them shared living quarters – and divided her time as equitably as she could between Jhonn and Cass.

Jhonn was anxious to hear all Aloy could tell him about life inside The Bunker. He was evasive, however, whenever she tried to probe him to learn of his invasion plans. That was, at least until one day, when she chose to wear her Focus when she met with him.

Aloy had taken to hiding her Focus most of the time, worried that activating it might alert General Ormstead – or someone else in The Bunker – of her location, as it obviously had when she visited Cass. Even if the combined forces of Gorman and the new village ( _it really needs a name_!, Aloy thought) could survive a Mercenary attack, she didn't want to be responsible for it. Again.

Aloy was free to walk anywhere within the confines of the combined villages. This included the Cradle in which Jhonn made his headquarters and his home. With no threat of Rad rain, the villagers who had sought shelter in the Cradle were back in their homes, leaving only Jhonn and his most trusted guards to occupy the Cradle. There she went one afternoon, intent on learning about Jhonn's plans for The Bunker. It was time, she decided, to make the case for saving anyone in The Bunker who wished to escape.

Jhonn was mildly surprised to see Aloy sporting her Focus above her right temple. It was rather plain to see – her red hair was still closely cropped (though at least a bit more trimmed, as Cass had spent an evening trying to make the hack job look neater) and did nothing to hide the Focus, much less her head.

"Ah, I was wondrin' when you'd break that thing out again," Jhonn said as Aloy approached. He sat at what had once been a computer station, eating from a large plate of some sort of roasted animal part and drinking from a clay flagon. "Hungry? This's some good meat."

"No, thank you," Aloy responded politely. She had found herself less interested in eating meat and more in the assorted grasses and vegetables that Cass and her people ate. She wasn't giving up meat just yet, but she was not as hungry for it as she had been most of her life.

"So what does yer Focus do fer ya?" Jhonn asked between bites of meat.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Aloy answered, cautious about revealing too much before she could find out what Jhonn might already know. "Mostly, I guess, it just helps me… see things… that I wouldn't normally.

"What do you know about Focuses?"

"Well," Jhonn said as he took a swig from the flagon, "we got a few of 'em. They work like, I dunno, like long-distance voices."

"Voices?" Aloy asked. "Strange voices?"

"No, of course not," Jhonn chuckled, "voices from my own men, far away, farther than they could shout. But we don't _see_ anythin' special with ours. What kinds of stuff do _you_ see?"

"As I said, things I might not see with my naked eye. Like Machines that are hidden by trees, or people, and whether those people are friendly or not…"

" _What?_ " Jhonn almost dropped the huge bone he held in his right hand, just in front of his open mouth. "You can tell all that? How'd you get that, anyways?"

"I found it," Aloy replied. She considered her options: _How much do I tell this man? Is he likely to turn on me? Do I want hm to know that there are many other Focuses like mine, scattered throughout the Savage East and the Forbidden West? Or do I pretend mine is the only one?_ She decided to steer the conversation back to Jhonn and his Focuses. "You use your Focuses as communication devices? With whom do you communicate?"

"Why, as I said, my men. Y'see, there's an island off the coast down south, and a bunch a my men – and women too – sailed over to it and set up a camp there. They're studyin' the air and the water. They see Rad storms before we do an' they use a Focus to warn us. Been there about a year now.

"Twenty-four of 'em sailed over, one of 'em got killed by a Machine but there've been a couple a' babies born, so there's 25 now. They live better'n us – they found birds' nests and they rob 'em of fresh eggs, lots a' little animals to eat, vegetables and fruits grow great there – I've been meanin' to send more people to settle the island but I need every arm I've got to invade The Bunker."

 _Perfect timing!_ Aloy thought. _I needed the right time to bring that up. Jhonn just did the job for me!_

"Speaking of the invasion," Aloy began, watching Jhonn carefully to see his reaction, "I think we should talk…"

"Yeah," Jhonn said as he slumped back in his chair and looked Aloy in the eye. "I been thinkin' the same thing. I wanna make my move in the next couple a' days, 'n I know you wanna try to get somebody out of there before I do."

"Well, yes," Aloy answered. She was taken aback by Jhonn's willingness to talk: he'd avoided the topic for weeks. "There are several…"

"Ya got 24 hours," Jhonn interrupted.

"What's the rush? Is there some reason you're suddenly going on with this invasion?"

"It's not 'sudden,' it's just that you 'n me haven't spoken about it lately. My, um, weapon is ready to unload on The Bunker, and we're runnin' low on drinkin' water, so it's time."

"Are you willing to tell me about this secret 'weapon' of yours?"

"Tell ya? Hell no, I'll show ya! Foller me."

Jhonn arose from his lunch and walked toward the nearest stairway. Aloy expected him to head up the stairs, out of the Cradle, but instead he took the stairway down. A floor below, the stairway ended, and Jhonn walked midway around the circular walkway, scattered with desks and computers, some of the latter still with glowing screens or buttons. As they reached a closed door, he grasped a leather loop from around his neck and lifted it over his head. A silver key was tied onto the loop. Jhonn inserted the key in the handle of the locked door, turned the key, opened the door, and waved for Aloy to enter ahead of him. The room they entered was reasonably well-lit, though with a low ceiling and no natural light.

An almost overpowering foul stench filled Aloy's lungs as she took a breath. Jhonn closed the door behind him, then placed his hand over his mouth.

"Gawd! I never get used ta that! Rotting meat and human waste." Jhonn turned to a set of shelves just to the left of the door, grabbed something from a shelf, and handed it to Aloy. A mask, just large enough to cover her mouth and nose, with two strings to tie it behind her head. She couldn't get it tied on quickly enough. She glanced over to see Jhonn doing the same.

"Okay, come with me," Jhonn walked toward the far wall of the small room and through an open doorway. The next room was much better lit, larger, and littered with a combination of lab equipment and what looked like a butcher shop. An elderly man, almost bald, wearing a white smock and a face mask, a cane in one hand, sat on a stool in front of a table, watching them approach.

"Good to see you Skulldriver, " the old man said, a slight nod toward Jhonn, "it's been a while."

"Good ta see you too, Jeb, 'n I'm takin' ta bein' called by my name if ya don't mind. Mostly because a' this young lady here." Jhonn motioned toward Aloy.

"Yes, yes," the man called Jeb muttered, "the goddess with flaming hair! We've heard much about you."

"Now c'mon, Jeb, don't talk that way – you'll give her a swell head 'n we'll never hear the end of it!" Aloy was shocked: Jhonn was actually laughing!

"As you say, Skulld… Jhonn," Jeb began.

"Yep, jus' Jhonn fer now, Jeb, I been layin' off the heavy drink and feelin' a lot better. I think it messed up a bunch of my life 'n pretty much ruined my family.

"So how about we show Aloy our secret weapon, eh?"

"Oh yes, yes!" Jeb seemed overly excited at the prospect, like a mad scientist happy to have the chance to demonstrate his genius. Jeb limped toward the center of the room – the first time that Aloy realized the man was missing a good portion of his right leg, from just below the knee, and he required a cane to stabilize as he walked – to a strangely empty, open, darkened pit that took up most of the room. As Aloy approached, she was struck by the gloomy nature of the pit, the foul odors that now permeated through her mask… and strange scratching and guttural sounds arising from the depths. Surrounding the pit was a solid fence, high enough that Aloy had to lean against it to see over it.

"Hit the lights, Jeb," Jhonn said, and Jeb flipped a switch on a panel attached to the wall, and several dim lights flickered on below. And Aloy saw Jhonn's "secret weapon."

Halfmen. Perhaps two dozen of them, scrawny, filthy creatures, shreds of clothing hanging on some of them, others devoid of any clothes, or of body hair. They were lying on the bare floor, asleep, but started to awaken and move about as they realized the lights had come on.

"Perfect warriors!" Jhonn crowed. "They eat anythin' that moves – one of 'em almost ate ol' Jeb's leg plumb off, he killed it afore it finished – 'n ya don't have to pay 'em!

"Hey Jeb, is it feedin' time yet?"

"Close enough!" Jeb replied. Jhonn walked to the far side of the pit, out of view of Aloy, and hoisted something over his head: the carcass of an animal, probably a deer, as it appeared to have antlers. Jhonn heaved the carcass into the pit below, and the creatures pounced on it, yanking and gnashing as they fought to get at the animal, rip it apart, and devour it. Aloy had to step away from the grisly spectacle as fur, blood, and internal organs began to fly about the filthy pit.

Jhonn was beaming as he yelled over the primal sounds from below, "We keep 'em hungry, only feed 'em every couple days, 'n this is their last meal till we set 'em loose in The Bunker."

As the inhuman sounds continued to echo from the feast below, Aloy was compelled to glance over the top of the fence once more, though both Jhonn and the elderly man stepped back. She ignored the cluster of clawing and gnashing creatures and watched one in particular: it appeared to be a female, emaciated and hairless like all the rest, but it wasn't joining in the feeding. Instead, it lay against a far wall, crumpled almost into a ball, head turned away from the rest. Then, another Halfman (clearly a male, Aloy noted, as this one had not a stitch of clothing on him) left the feeding frenzy, ambled on bent legs and one arm to the female's side, and held out his hand: he held a chunk of meat, rib bone attached, in his outstretched hand. The female turned to see him, weakly reached for the food offering, returned to her curled pose, and began to slowly gnaw at it. The male scampered back to rejoin the group around their meal.

Aloy was unsure if what she thought she saw had really happened: one of these mindless creatures just demonstrated compassion toward another! These things can show emotions, empathy, perhaps independent thought. She walked, slowly, to the far side of the ring, where Jhonn and the man stood, talking quietly among themselves. She tried to hear their conversation but they were whispering and the sounds from below were still loud. So she chose to interrupt.

"Have you seen these Halfmen show… compassion toward each other, or interest?"

"You're joking, of course," Jhonn chuckled, "these things were living in the Radiated City all their lives. Their brains are fried. They know nothing but killin' and eatin'."

"Besides," the old man added, "who'd want to watch them long enough to find out? The one that tore up my leg was tied down and it got loose and attacked me, and I just managed to smack it in the head before it finished me off.

"I learned they're not all that easy to kill: I hit that thing in the head with a bottle, stabbed it in the neck a bunch of times with a knife, and it still struggled right until it finally bled to death.

"No ma'am, these things have no emotions except survival."

"If you keep them so hungry," Aloy asked, "have you seen any sign that they turn on weak ones, try to eat them?"

"Well, no, no I haven't." The man paused for a moment, then continued. "Matter of fact, we had more of them when we first rounded these up, five, six months ago. But a couple died down there and we had to fish the bodies out after they started rotting and making the place smell even worse than it does now. And I really thought the others would eat those bodies, but they didn't."

"Don't you think that's strange, for such primitive creatures in their condition?" Aloy was bothered by the man's cavalier attitude towards the Halfmen. "You know, Jhonn, if those were some of your Bandits, they wouldn't hesitate to resort to cannibalism to survive."

"Yeah, well," Jhonn replied, "I've got my doubts about the intelligence of some of my men, so you may be right."

"Just a moment ago, when those things were eating, one of them took a piece to a weaker one and gave it to her."

"Ha ha!" Jhonn said sarcastically. "That's funny, for two reasons. First, that you'd think ya saw something so ridiculous from these things, and second, that's you'd call one of 'em 'her,' as if it mattered! They're all brainless things, not a him or a her."

Recognizing there was little to be gained, Aloy decided to drop the subject. Still, she was intrigued by what she'd witnessed. She made a mental note to try to learn more about the primal Halfmen of the Radiated City of the Lost Angels. But for now, time to learn more about the planned invasion of The Bunker.

"I'm curious," Aloy mused, following Jhonn as he slowly strolled toward the exit door, "what do you plan to do with these things? How are they part of your invasion?"

Jhonn stopped and turned to face Aloy. "Very simple, my dear. These creatures will eat anything and anyone, an' they're tough bastards ta kill, as Jeb found out, so we're gonna chain 'em up an' dump 'em in The Bunker. In a few days, we'll foller 'em in, kill anythin' still livin', and The Bunker is ours."

"The entrance to The Bunker is guarded day and night," Aloy noted. "Those guards carry rifles."

"Don' you think I know that?" Jhonn sounded a bit perturbed by what he clearly perceived as Aloy's statement of the obvious. "We been watchin' and notin' the guards fer months now. Three times a day they rotate the guards, an' usually three or four of 'em will come outside an' look around fer just a few minutes. Durin' that time the main door is left unlocked. We wait till that time, sneak in an' kill the guards, open the door an' toss in the Halfmen, and bar the door shut from the outside.

"We give it about a week. We know some o' the Bunker will get away and hide, but after a few days they'll get hungry 'n thirsty 'n they'll pop out of their holes and the Halfmen will get 'em. Anybody that's left alive, we'll get 'em when we come in an' clear out the place.

"Tomorrow mornin' we start chainin' these beasts – it'll take us hours, we can't afford ta lose anybody to 'em – and lead 'em to a spot just outside The Bunker. Then, as soon as the guards show up, we hit 'em."

"So I've got until that time to make contact with the people that I know in the Bunker, tell them to leave, and get them out safely, and all without alerting the commanders?"

"You got it. Time's a'wastin', ya know."


End file.
